


A Promise Kept

by TimeSorceror



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: (sort of), Andraste Statue, Angst, Babies, Brief Felching Mention, Double Impregnation, Fertility Statue Frottage, Fluff, M/M, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Pregnant Sex, Semi-Graphic Descriptions of Birth, Sex on a Statue, Smut, longfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeSorceror/pseuds/TimeSorceror
Summary: Once, when they still lived in Kirkwall, Fenris had promised Anders that he would stay by the mage’s side no matter what happened to them. He hadn't anticipated having sex on a fertility statue and both of them becoming pregnant with each other's children, but Fenris was not the sort of elf who made promises he didn't intend to keep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, um. This was just supposed to be Anders and Fenris having sex on statue, discovering that they were both pregnant, and then BAM. End of story.
> 
> It, um. Well. Obviously more story was required. Also a lot of pregnant sex at various stages of progression. And feels. Graphic descriptions of things that maybe didn't need describing. Also I'm posting this without looking over the last section because I just want this thing done so, you know fair warning.
> 
> But also if you're looking for a fic about two guys who have sex on a fertility statue and decide to keep the spawn that it gifted them with, this might interest you. Enjoy. ;)

Once, when they still lived in Kirkwall, Fenris had promised Anders that he would stay by the mage’s side no matter what happened to them. That had been before Anders had set an explosive in the Chantry and caused them to flee from the city shortly after they had dealt with the thing that had once been Knight Commander Meredith.

Anders had been so sure that afterwards, Fenris would tell him that he’d made that promise to Anders the man, not Anders the monster, but all Fenris had done was take his hand and had asked Isabela drop them off at the next port she dared to dock at.

Other than those few words, Fenris also hadn’t spoken to him for several days. It seemed that even though the elf normally relished silence, he couldn’t stand having it between himself and Anders, so when he did speak there was a lot of yelling from the other side of their cabin until he’d grown hoarse from yelling and angry crying until eventually they ended up in one of the beds, entirely wrapped around one another while they listened to a more comforting silence that was only punctuated by the sounds of the sea outside.

Eventually they reconciled, and by the time Isabela docked in Highever, they had even worked up to having some amazing make-up sex. But afterwards, their sex life (and indeed their public lives in general) had to be put on hold for a little while.

“I hate to say this,” Fenris had pointed out one evening while they huddled in a small room in the most nondescript tavern they could find, “but unless you want to live in the Frostbacks or head past Redcliffe to make a break for the Kocari Wilds, we’re going to have to settle in the Amaranthine Forest or somewhere in Denerim where we can get lost in either the trees or the hundreds of people.”

Anders had sighed, not quite ready to be anywhere near that many people for a while, so Amaranthine it was. Fenris promised they wouldn’t have to stay in the city or go near Vigil’s Keep unless they absolutely had to, so that helped calm Anders’ fears somewhat.

They traveled as close as possible to the King’s Road without actually travelling the road itself to avoid being seen, until eventually they made it to a small farm village that was just out of the reach of either Amaranthine itself or Vigil’s Keep for visits there to be anything close to fast (or even worth it) when it came to fetching hard-to-get supplies. The village didn’t even have a Chantry, just a midwife, her apprentice, and an elderly former Chantry Brother who occasionally oversaw civil marriages, and as such, few there bothered to bat an eye even when it became apparent that Anders was a mage.

“You carry yourself like the Wardens do,” said the midwife, who Anders and Fenris eventually came to know as Grizelda. She was older, with long white hair pulled back and over her shoulders, with a slightly hunched but fairly sturdy build. “Mage or not, it’s hard getting out to the city when we run out of good healing supplies, and if I were a better alchemist I might be able to use the local plants to supplement those trips. But you’ll be useful to have around, and if the old Brother complains about you, just say the word and he’ll have itching powder in his laundry for weeks.”

Brother Jerrell, a retired Chantry Brother who was about as old as the midwife, merely walked by and made a derisive noise as he paused in the doorway to mutter, “How dare you, Zelda. After all that time I spent training those cats of yours to catch mice, you’d still try to threaten me with that? Besides, it’s not like I could tell what was itching powder and what’s just me getting old.”

“I might be able to fix that,” Anders piped up automatically, then immediately covering his mouth with one hand and blushing so hard that he had the midwife slamming her kitchen table in her laughter.

The old man gave Anders an appraising glance.

“Really now? You’d not mind having a relic like me drop my smalls just to see if you could fix an itch?” Anders, having recovered a little from his outburst, shrugged sheepishly as he caught the old man’s gaze.

“Well, I used to work as a healer for at least two separate brothels, and while the workers themselves were rarely a problem, sometimes they’d pick up a thing or two from a client and I’m sure I’ve seen worse things from that than whatever’s causing your itch. Besides, if you weren’t sexually active not long before it started, you probably just need a good skin ointment and a nice wash between your cheeks every now and then.”

Brother Jerrell stared at him for a few moments, absolutely stone-faced, before turning to Grizelda and pointing in Anders’ and Fenris’ general direction with one hand while he grasped his walking stick with another.

“Where in the void did you find these two?” he asked her gruffly. She merely shrugged, nonchalant. “They just wandered in. Looking for a quiet place to settle.”

He looked them over once again a few more times before he grunted and fixed the midwife with another squinty stare.

“Don’t let them leave,” was all he said afterwards, and then he shuffled out of the room.

Fenris eyed the old man as he left. “Is… that supposed to make us feel welcome?” Grizelda snorted and waved him off. “That’s actually his way of saying he likes you, I promise. Now, as fortune would have it, there is actually a loft over the place where most of us store our healing supplies. You’ll have to rearrange some things, but I think it’ll suit you two just nicely.”

And so the old woman had her apprentice, a blond, waifish elven girl who was still only a few years into adulthood (early twenties, if Anders had had to guess) show them the storage as well as the rooms above. One of them had a window that looked across the town square and Anders instantly turned to Fenris, saying, “We’ll take it!”

The girl grinned. “She said you’d probably like it. Here’s the keys then,” she added, fishing through her pockets and finally throwing Fenris the keys when she found them. “And you’re also free to organize the downstairs however you like. Turn this place into a proper apothecary, maybe. Whatever you feel is best, she said.” And with that the girl was about to leave, but paused before going down the stairs.

“I’m Sora, by the way. I hope you like it here…”

“We hope we like it here too,” Anders replied, and Sora nodded. “Having a healer around, ‘specially a mage healer is going to help so many births. Grizelda is looking forward to not needing to send someone up to the statue every time they’re having trouble conceiving…”

“Statue?” Fenris asked, curious.

“Yeah; an Andraste fertility statue. Or, well. People think it’s of Andraste but it’s hard to tell. After all, no poncy, hoity-toity, big city Chantry would be caught dead even acknowledging the existence of such statues, never mind saying any of ‘em are of Andraste. ‘S probably an ancient elf thing, anyway. Though if you ever get curious and want to see for yourself, it’s a little northwest of here, not far from where all the rare Crystal Grace and Royal Elfroot grow.”

“...right, um,” Fenris muttered, turning the keys in his hand. “...thanks for letting us know.” Sora nodded and descended the stairs, leaving them to their own devices.

All was silence for a few precious heartbeats after they heard the door downstairs close with a soft thud. Fenris joined Anders next to the window, watching the midwife’s apprentice walking briskly back towards Grizelda’s home, presumably to resume her instructions for the day. Anders glanced over to Fenris and wordlessly wrapped an arm around the elf’s shoulders, bringing him close.

“Looks like this is our life now,” Anders breathed, and Fenris nodded. “Looks like it.”

“I know you would’ve preferred somewhere with more people, and less farmland…”

“Anders,” Fenris cut him off. “None of that matters. All that matters is that you’re here, safe. With me. And if that means sticking it out here for a year, ten years, I am at ease with that reality. Besides, we are not so removed from civilization as you think. Amaranthine is still within a comfortably doable journey on foot, as is Vigil’s Keep. But you said you needed quiet, and I agree with you. So… here we are.”

“But there’s less to do here. You’ll get bored.”

“So perhaps I shall learn to knit or we’ll make regular trips out to the city to pick up some new reading materials. I have also never learned to shoot a bow or make traps… there is more to do than you think.” Anders thought about that for a moment. “Hmm. Well, perhaps. There did used to be this one particular book seller in the city that had the most fantastic collection of smutty literature I’d ever seen, and it’s been ages since I’ve picked up a blade and gone through sword forms.” He locked eyes with Fenris again and let out a soft sigh.

“Perhaps life won’t be as boring as all that.”

* * *

 As Fenris had predicted, from that day forward, their lives were indeed predictable but not without variety. Once the villagers heard that a healer was settling in their little town once more, there was rarely a day that came by without an introduction from one person or another until a month had passed and Anders and Fenris were known to just about everyone and Anders had reorganized and rearranged the first floor to create a small but well-stocked clinic.

Somewhere in the span of that month, Anders had made at least a few trips out into the forest to gather some of the local herbs that the clinic lacked, and one of those trips had taken him all the way out to the clearing where the fabled Andraste fertility statue was located.

Indeed, it was hard to tell exactly who the statue was supposed to be of, since the heavily pregnant woman was veiled and it was difficult to make out any hints of pointed ears or anything that might suggest it was elven in origin.

However, the veil was strangely the only thing the statue was wearing, along with a pendant of some kind that might have bore the Chantry sunburst once, and it made Anders a little uncomfortable. Mostly because he’d felt himself quickly becoming quite aroused at the sight of the very naked, very pregnant statue and he’d done his best to gather as much Crystal Grace and Royal Elfroot as his baskets would allow before leaving the clearing as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t the last trip he’d ever make however, and neither would his second trip be made alone.

“Can you believe it’s been six months already?” Anders asked one morning while folding and putting away their linens and clothes while Fenris lay, lounging on their bed with a book, occasionally glancing up at Anders from over the pages.

“Since when?” was Fenris’ distracted reply.

“Since settling here. Though it feels like we’ve always been here, at least to me.”

Fenris marked his place between the pages and closed the book, setting it aside and shifting so that he was sitting up with his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen. “I find it more strange that we haven’t gotten news of the Chantry explosion here. It has, as you say, been six months since that event as well.” Anders shrugged as he began folding one of his broadcloth shirts.

“There was news of it in Amaranthine the first time we went out there, but even then it was missing pieces of the story. My name for one, though I suppose there’s a small mercy in that somewhere.” Fenris nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s true. And the last time we went there was less talk of Kirkwall and more about just the growing unease in the Circles?”

Anders grunted softly, setting the folded shirt aside and starting in on another garment.

“I know I wanted change, but I fear the storm I have started. I feel regret and repulsion, mostly at myself and my actions, and frustration that I couldn’t do more with peaceful means.” He sighed, staring despondently at the garment in his hands. Quietly, Fenris slid off of the bed as Anders continued, “Justice has been very supportive of late… trying to make amends for what he convinced us to do in Kirkwall. This more sedate life chafes at him a bit, not knowing what’s happening in the world at large, but I suspect that’s more about my worry chafing at him than my guilt at needing a more quiet life… oh!”

Fenris had snuck up behind Anders and had wound his hands around his lover’s middle, hugging the mage tightly, his face partially buried in one shoulder.

“Anders. I did not mean to make you fret so. Now, I cannot tell you what to do or think about your worries, but perhaps we should take a day for ourselves instead of our usual routines? Perhaps go out and camp in the woods and pretend we are near the Dalish camp on Sundermount again, trying to out-do Hawke and Isabela for who can be the loudest at having sex?” Anders snorted.

“I don’t believe we ever did that. The competition thing, I mean.”

“We could pretend. Or… you know, I’ve never seen that clearing you keep telling me about, the one with the fertility statue? You said it was quite beautiful. We could pack a blanket, some food… spend a night under the stars. What do you think, Anders?”

It sounded lovely. Just what he needed. And it would be a decent way to celebrate their half-year anniversary since settling here and having Brother Jerrell (sort of) bless their commitment to one another. (It had been a small ceremony in the house that the retried Chantry Brother shared with Grizelda, and he’d been his usual cantankerous self the entire time – though Anders knew for certain now that was mostly an act after having treated the man’s itch and gave him instructions to prevent its recurrence.)

“Why not?” Anders put down the garment he’d been folding and turned around in Fenris’ arms. “We could go tonight!” He’d probably be able to ignore the statue if Fenris was there with him, and if he did still happen to become aroused, well… he made a mental note to pack some oil in with their picnic just in case.

So it was with a light heart and a bubbling of excitement in Anders’ belly that they set out in the early evening, stopping by one family’s home to tell them they might not be at the clinic early the next day to see them, and the woman who greeted them thanked Anders for letting them know and bid them a pleasant evening.

As it was only Anders who had walked the path to the clearing, Fenris followed close behind the mage, clasping one of the blond’s hands and reciting some of the poetry he’d memorized.

“Fenris!” Anders had exclaimed at one particularly raunchy set of couplets.

“Please, save those for later!”

Fenris had merely smiled and moved to wrap their arms together as they walked into the clearing. Together, they paused at the edge, looking over the field of grasses, flowers, and herbs. Here, the trees completely surrounded everything, and the light of the setting sun was only present in the rainbow of yellows and oranges to red and purples that were slowly fading to night black. There, the faintest of stars were beginning to sparkle, and Anders suddenly found himself wondering how he had ever been tempted to wank at the sight of a naked statue in the face of something so beautiful as this?

His elven partner had noticed the statue however, and appeared to be unimpressed by her appearance. “So this is the statue, then? Hmm. Sora was right, it is hard to tell who it is supposed to be. She could be one of the elven goddesses… though I’ve only ever seen a pedant of that shape worn by Chantry clergy.” He shrugged, and Anders joined him in his scrutiny of the woman.

“Still, I doubt the Chantry would ever officially condone the commissioning of a naked, pregnant statue of Andraste…” He glanced at Fenris and shifted their picnic basket from one arm to another. “We should hurry and make a fire if we’re going to be able to see what we’re eating before long. Here, I know where there’s a nice patch of dirt to set camp.”

The two men made camp not far from the statue, and once they had a fire going, they laid out their blankets, a few pillows, and the meal they’d brought to share with one another. It was nothing fancy, just a small spread of meats, cheeses, and fruit, with a bit of bread and a decent vintaged bottle of wine. Anders found that even with Fenris here, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at the statue. He was captivated by the round heaviness of her belly, the swell of her breasts as they fell against it, unhibited by any sort of brassiere or band. He thought it likely that the sculptor had imagined them to be full of milk, because even the tiny nubs of her nipples were quite pronounced and looked as though they could start dribbling liquid at any time.

And then Fenris began to notice Anders’ distraction.

“Anders,” Fenris purred, very close to Anders’ right ear. Anders started, wondering exactly when Fenris had moved so close behind him, and he felt his cock twitch at the dusky timbre that vibrated through that side of his face.

“I–ah… yes?” he stammered, his breathing beginning to pick up as Fenris moved around him to rummage through the basket for one of the vials of oil that that Anders knew that he knew Anders had stashed there.

“I’ve seen you watching that statue all night, Anders,” Fenris pointed out to him. “The way your eyes trail its curves and and swells… I almost thought I was jealous of it, but then I remembered: you have a thing for statues, don’t you?” Fenris crawled over him, pinning him to the blanket with his solid weight. Despite being a full foot shorter than Anders, Fenris’ muscle density was far greater from all those years of wielding a greatsword to cleave the heads of slavers from their shoulders.

“And I also know that you especially have a thing for statues of… Andraste.”

Oh sweet Maker. Anders couldn’t even deny it. And he especially couldn’t deny it when he watched Fenris glance down as his cock twitched again at the sound of the elf’s sinful voice laying out one of his deepest, darkest desires out to the world… even if that world was just the two of them for the moment. Well, the two of them and a questionably Andrastian fertility statue.

Anders groaned, unable to keep his hips from jerking upwards to grind against Fenris… only to meet air as Fenris lifted himself to his hands and knees. Anders whined, and Fenris swallowed the whine with a deeply arousing kiss before he broke away and caught Anders’ gaze.

“What would you say to me taking you against it, Anders? Your belly against hers, your face between her breasts as I enter you from behind–”

“Maker, yes!” Anders shouted, “Please, yes; I’ll do whatever as long as you stop teasing, elf.”

Fenris just grinned and pulled Anders up in one motion as he stood, and Anders was all too eager to help him. In just a few short moments Anders’ trousers were bunched over his boots and padding his knees as he knelt upon the dais the statue was set upon. His hands were reaching up to grasp the faintly warm surface of the stone of her breasts as Fenris prepared his ass with his fingers. He groaned insensibly as he carefully buried his face in her breasts, finding them strangely more comfortable than stone breasts had any right to be, and he could hear Fenris chuckling from behind him.

“You look so good like this, Anders,” he kept whispering over and over. “Legs splayed and cock dribbling… it almost makes me wonder what you’d look like, like this…"

“Like… what?” Anders panted, some part of him quite certain what the elf was going to say next.

“Well, this is a fertility statue. Imagine it; if either of us could bear children… you, your belly swollen with child and me behind you, sating your ever increasing appetite for sex. Imagine my hands brushing up and down your sides” –here, Fenris' hands did exactly that as they briefly left Anders’ ass to roll up his shirt to the upper half of his pectorals, exposing his nipples and belly to the air– “as the child within presses against your skin…”

“Maker, Fenris,” Anders swore, “what… what a picture you paint…”

Fenris moved away just then and behind him, Anders could hear the furious shuffling as Fenris tried to undo the ties of his own trousers. “Having trouble?” he teased, and then almost immediately regretted it when Fenris joined him on the dais, pressing Anders’ bare belly and chest against the statue. Anders groaned, imagining Fenris’ fantasy as his own, pretending he could feel the tiny hands and feet pressing against the stone skin of the statue’s belly, the faint warmth making it seem all the more real. His cock was rubbing against the underside too, and he shivered at the shocks of pleasure that rolled through him.

“Mage,” Fenris growled, reverting to his old pet name for the man when they’d been together in Kirkwall, “I had forgotten how much I liked you feisty.” Anders hummed appreciatively, groaning as Fenris lined himself up with Anders’ entrance (after slicking himself up with some oil in order to lubricate and bring himself to full hardness all at once) before pressing forward.

Anders keened with pleasure and began mouthing at the statue’s breasts, his hands reflexively shifting so that he could thumb at the stone nipples. This angle was a little different than what he was used to the few times they had sex from behind, but with the relatively similar waist height while kneeling, it wasn’t all that difficult for Fenris to bottom out and begin thrusting in earnest. It was merely that something felt… different. Like his body was far too warm despite the growing coolness of the statue Fenris had him pinned against.

It was a good kind of different though, a very good kind of different.

It was only moments before Fenris found that spot inside him that made him see a very different kind of stars than the ones that they were making love under (because Anders couldn’t dare to call this fucking, not with the way Fenris’ hands kept caressing him and his lips kept peppering kisses along whatever parts of him he could reach) and he heard more than he felt his cum splattering across the side-crossed legs and underside of the statue’s belly just a few heartbeats before Fenris joined him in his bliss.

Of course, Anders was a Warden, and he was definitely still hard.

“Please,” he panted, “Let me take you? I… rather like that fantasy of yours… seeing you round and full with my baby… or perhaps more than one?”

Fenris’ cock, which was still half buried in Anders, twitched a little as he withdrew.

“I… find that strangely arousing,” was all Fenris could say as they traded places, Anders taking the same time and care to prepare his elven lover as Fenris had taken with him. Fenris’ inner warmth was deliciously sweet to Anders’ touch, and he couldn’t resist letting his other hand ruck up the elf’s shirt to reach around to tweak a nipple, palm gently cupping the slight swell of Fenris’ muscled breast. His lips fell upon Fenris’ skin and brands just as Fenris had done to him, but there was a strange charge to the air that made them glow with each pass of his tongue.

Fenris, for his part, seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit. He’d even come to half hardness just from Anders’ preparation of him, but he keened his disappointment loudly when those clever fingers were removed.

“Patience, love,” Anders crooned soothingly. “I’ll be filling you with those babies soon enough, don’t you worry.” Now that made Fenris buck against Anders as the blond shuffled forward to press him against the statue, the stone still warm from the day’s heat but quickly cooling with the falling night now slick with their sweat and spunk.

“I… have the strangest desire,” Fenris huffed, groaning as Anders entered him. “To… to see us both swollen with child and trying to find a way to have sex because…”

“Because we’re both so fucking horny it should be a crime,” Anders finished, nodding as he pulled out and thrust in again, causing Fenris to writhe where he was pinned. Anders was almost worried for a moment, which Fenris seemed to pick up on because he turned to capture Anders’ lips in a soft kiss. The gesture made Anders’ heart ache as his hands roamed Fenris’ body faster, tracing skin and brands that lit up the space around them with a Fade-blue glow.

Anders could feel Justice drawing close to the fore, but instead of taking over like he usually did when Fenris’ brands were involved in their bedroom exploits, he and the spirit were for once present in equal measure, as was evident by the cracks of blue spidering across Anders’ skin, though most of his movements and the honey brown of his eyes were still his own.

“Eventually one of us ends up on their hands and knees, belly dragging and rubbing at the sheets while the other enters from behind from feel alone because their belly is so large and round,” Fenris continued. “Yes,” Anders groaned, still trying to draw out his thrusts so that Fenris had time to grow to full hardness again. “It rests against the other’s back, the baby’s movements increasing a little from all the excitement…”

“The angle is not what we’re used to.”

“But we make it work, because it’s torture to be so criminally horny and we’ve missed this. Missed being joined to one another, making love to each other…”

“And the evidence, unnn. The evidence of that union makes it burn all the sweeter–ahh!”

Fenris groaned as one particular thrust set his world alight, and Anders’ vision went from white to black and back again as he heard Fenris’ cum also splattering against the statue’s legs and the underside of her belly. Fenris’ body clamped down like a vice on Anders’ cock, which twitched once, twice, and then a third time before Anders thrust in again, deeper than he usually did, and when the haze of his orgasm was over he could’ve sworn that he’d cum more than once during the whole ordeal.

Either way, Anders felt himself softening at last as a wave of sleepy exhaustion began to overtake him. Looking at Fenris while they pulled up their smalls and trousers, Anders could tell that the elf was feeling the same way.

“Wow. We should indulge in a little breeding kink more often,” he said, yawning. “That was… amazing. And quite pleasantly exhausting.”

Fenris nodded. “We should clean the statue… out of, um… reverence? Courtesy?”

Anders groaned. “Perhaps in the morning. I’m done in. Need to be horizontal for a bit. Come join me, love?” Fenris hummed appreciatively, groaning softly as he settled on the blanket in Anders’ arms, the fire burning low nearby to keep them warm through the night’s chill.

Neither man saw the statue begin to glow with a sparkling divine light, as they were both fast asleep once they hit their pillows, just as neither of them felt the changes that fell over them in their sleep: changes that would later turn their lives upside-down and change their relationship in more ways than one.

* * *

  
The following morning, Anders woke first to clean the statue of the previous night’s exertions, but when he walked over with a rag lightly dampened with a generous bit of the morning dew, there didn’t appear to be anything to clean.

Perhaps he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to clean it, or something.

Either way, he didn’t think much of it… at least until about a month later when Anders started noticing a few things. A few rather unusual things.

One morning Anders awoke to the distant sounds of Fenris being sick in their washroom, and he groaned as he sat up to go investigate. His stomach had felt tight in the last two weeks, as had his breast muscles, though those had felt more sensitive than sore and ached a little when he tried to massage them. Both he and Fenris hadn’t been feeling well for awhile, but with the coolness of the changing weather had come a rash of the usual seasonal illnesses and Anders had figured that they’d merely caught a rather unfortunate cocktail of things that just didn’t like to play well together.

It was getting harder and harder to tell himself this however, though he wasn’t certain why.

Anders moved gingerly around the bed and out of the bedroom to trudge in the direction of their washroom, bringing one of the blankets with him and wrapping it tightly around himself. He found Fenris there, wearing only a loose pair of trousers with the laces undone, half leaning leaning against the wall, half clutching at the bucket he’d thrown up in, every inch of skin glistening with sweat as he shivered.

“Dinner didn’t agree with you darling?” Anders asked quietly, grabbing a nearby pitcher of water and a cup to pour Fenris some water. The elf took it gratefully as Anders slid down next to him, throwing the blanket around Fenris’ shoulders.

“Ugh. Looks like not. I… um. I might be here awhile. I don’t feel comfortable moving from here… barely made it the first time.”

Anders’ brow knit in concern, and he left Fenris with the blanket to go fetch a hair tie from the bedroom, pulling Fenris’ hair out of the line of fire. “Here, just so nothing gets caught in it. ‘S a miracle nothing did the first time.” Fenris nodded and was about to say more with he paled a little and groaned. “No.. please, no.”

“If it’s the food, it’s gotta come out, love. I know it’s unpleasant, but try not to fight it. I’m going to go downstairs and make some tea to see if it’ll help settle your stomach, okay?”

Fenris nodded again before he quickly turned and Anders winced as he heard the elf retch, followed by the wet squelch of liquid splattering against the bottom of the bucket. Fenris pulled back, and Anders caught a whiff of the smell which curdled his own already sensitive stomach, so he decided to leave and start making that tea before he joined the elf in emptying the contents of last night’s dinner into the bucket.

So that was how the old midwife found him when she came knocking at his door, brewing some peppermint tea and still feeling on the edge of losing last night’s dinner himself.

“Maker, you look like death!” Grizelda exclaimed when he opened the door to show her inside.

Anders groaned, trying to steady his breathing in a last ditch effort to keep his stomach contents in his stomach. “I feel like it, certainly,” he wheezed, moving closer to where the aroma of the mint tea was strongest, and that seemed to help settle his churning insides a little.

“You’re quite green about the gills, too. Thought you’d be taking better care of yourself as a healer.” She looked around curiously. “And where’s that gorgeous other half of yours?”

“Mmm. Upstairs, currently emptying last night’s dinner into a bucket. I came down to make some tea in the hopes that it might settle his stomach… neither of us have been feeling well for about two weeks now, though I’ve yet to figure out why. Thought it might just be a bad combination of seasonal illnesses, but… I don’t know. I’ve been feeling strange for about a month now and I can’t put my finger on what might be causing it.”

Anders was trembling a little from the effort in keeping last night’s dinner down, and he could feel himself start to break out in a sweat from all that tension. Grizelda sighed, seeing how much discomfort he was in and moved around the table where the mint tea was brewing to reach over and gently rub circles into Anders’ back.

“You poor boy, you look so wrung out. Now, I’m not the healer you are but why don’t you tell me your symptoms and maybe I can tell you a thing or two that might help.”

Anders frowned, trying to recall everything that he’d noticed about his and Fenris’ symptoms.

“My sense of smell is… unusually sensitive, and my stomach often feels tight or bloated. Both Fenris and I have also been urinating more frequently than usual and we’re more tired than usual when we can’t sleep. The thing that really seems strange is the soreness in my chest… like it aches a little. I can’t quite accurately describe the sensation other than that it doesn’t hurt exactly, it’s just not very comfortable. And then there’s the delicate stomach issue…”

Silence filled the room for a long couple of breaths before the older woman turned to him and gave him an appraising glance.

“I mean, if I were a woman,” Anders continued, “I’d say these are all signs of pregnancy, but… but that’s impossible, right?”

“Hmm. Not… entirely.” The midwife muttered, sounding reluctant. Anders turned to look at her so quickly that his stomach churned again and his eyes scanned the shelves for the closest bucket and grabbed it just in case. “What?” he whispered shakily. “What do you mean “not entirely?” You’re not seriously suggesting that…”

“You and your other half didn’t visit the statue about a month ago, did you?”

Anders frowned at her. “Statue? You mean the fertility statue? What does that have to do with this?” Grizelda fixed him with a hard stare that softened a little when she caught sight of what was likely the pale sheen of sweat on his brow. “It has everything to do with this. Now, did you or did you not have sex with your partner on or in the presence of that statue?”

“Um. We, ah… yes. To the first bit. Both times.”

She gave him a look that was strange mixture of slightly impressed, mildly amused, and increasingly exasperated.

“Both..?!” She shook her head and sighed. “Anders… look. I’ve been around a while and I’ve seen a lot of things. Strange, unusual, you name it. That statue is one of those things. Now, I don’t know what it’s original purpose was or who made it, but it’s been there for as long as this town can remember and, well. It certainly works on women who have trouble conceiving, that’s for sure. But it also…”

“Sweet Maker,” Anders swore, right before he shuddered and at last lost the battle with his stomach, emptying its contents into the bucket he’d had the foresight to grab beforehand.

Grizelda sighed and held back his hair for him until he’d stopped emptying his guts into the bucket for long enough. Anders set the bucket aside as he carefully sat down in a chair that she’d drug over for him, and he felt her hands press gentle, soothing circles into his shoulder muscles that did wonders for his nerves.

After a small stretch of silence she patted his back gently and said to him, “You better fetch that partner of yours and come with me. But take him some of that mint tea, first. You were right in assuming it would help settle his stomach.”

Anders didn’t bother protesting and just poured a cup of the tea and took it up the stairs.

The moment the upstairs door closed behind him, he leaned against it and tried to root himself in the present instead of getting lost in his own head. He wondered what he was going to tell Fenris. Congratulations, you’re not sick, you’re pregnant? Better, they both were, if Grizelda’s words were to be believed. On impulse, one of Anders’ hands dropped from the cup of tea to his middle, his mana calling upon the powers of the Fade to cast a spell he’d cast several times on the women of Kirkwall’s Darktown and Lowtown, and even a few of the servicers in the Rose.

He almost dropped the cup of tea when the swirling colorless light of the spell turned a bright, almost pinkish red.

“By all that is Most Holy,” Anders whispered to the half darkness of the early morning.

He and Fenris absolutely needed to have that talk with Grizelda. Like, today. So he was quick to rejoin Fenris in the washroom, telling the elf that the midwife had come to see them and needed to talk to them at her home about their visit to the statue.

Fenris was slowly downing the cup of tea as Anders told him this, and he frowned in apparent confusion. “How did she know we were at the statue?”

“I told her,” Anders answered. “After I explained to her our symptoms, she asked about it. She… she believes that they’re connected.” Fenris’ eyes narrowed. “Connected how?” Anders shifted, rubbed his face, fidgeted with his left ear. “I tried not to think about it, considering... “

Understanding and trepidation dawned on the elf at last.

“Considering that it was a fertility statue.” Fenris stated calmly.

“Yes.” was all Anders said in reply.

Anders was now looking anywhere except at the elf, holding his arms close to his body and shivering. Fenris stood up on shaky legs and wrapped him in the blanket he’d brought earlier.

“Hey, Anders. It’s going to be alright. Now why don’t you put on your boots and we’ll go see what she has to say, hmm?” Anders sighed softly, leaning against the elf for support. “Alright. Alright. Thank you, Fenris. But you should put on your boots too… it’s getting colder out. Don’t want to freeze those toes off, you know.”

Fenris sighed deeply. “Fine, fine. I’ll put on my boots.”

“A shirt would be good too,” Anders supplied. “Also lacing up your trousers.”

“And a cloak? A blanket?” Fenris asked him, slightly exasperated. He should’ve known better than to ask, because shortly afterwards a cloak was thrust into his hands once he’d gotten a shirt over his head. “Should fit you,” Anders said sheepishly. “I figured I had a good idea of your measurements.”

They dressed quickly, at last rejoining the old midwife downstairs.

She regarded them with a soft but curious look as she tilted her head in the direction of outside. The pair nodded, and after Anders locked the door behind them, the three of them headed in the direction of the home that the midwife shared with Brother Jerrell.

The retired Chantry Brother was sitting at the round table in the middle of their kitchen, watching curiously as Grizelda came in with Anders and Fenris in tow.

“What’s with the entourage?” he asked Grizelda as she began reaching for some mint leaves from a nearby shelf, grinding them up a little and then letting them steep in some of the warm water that had evidently been left to simmer on the woodstove. She also handed both men a piece of toast, and told them to nibble at it gingerly if they felt up to eating before she turned to face the old man’s assessing stare.

“They needed to be told about the statue.”

Something dawned on Brother Jerrell and he frowned at the pair of them. “You didn’t have sex near it, did you?” he asked them. Grizelda snorted. “On it, actually. And my assumption, at least from what the healer told me, is that it was done twice.”

“With each other,” Anders clarified.

Other than the soft crunching of toast and the ticking of a dwarven timepiece, there was no other sound in the room for a good solid minute.

Finally, Brother Jerrell cleared his throat to ask, “...twice?”

“Warden Stamina,” Anders said by way of an answer. The retired brother gave a low whistle, and a moment later, Grizelda whacked him across the back of his head with a wooden spoon.

“Jerrell! This is a serious matter!”

Brother Jerrell hissed and winced as he rubbed the place where he’d been whacked. “Ow! Geeze, woman… you know, you’d’ve been a decent Chantry Mother in your day. Only your weapon of choice would’ve been your words… or the occasional leather switch.” She fixed him with a glare and at last the old man relented and he straightened up a little with a more serious expression on his face.

“...very well, then. Would you like to start, or shall I?”

She seemed to deliberate with herself for a minute before jerking her head at him.

“You should go. I need to finish brewing this tea for our guests.”

Brother Jerrell grunted. “You said that the last time this happened.” Anders frowned a little at the old man. “What do you mean… last time? This… this has happened before?”

“It tends to, every once in awhile. Everyone in the village knows not to spend a night in that clearing unless they intend to have babies… but every now and then we’ll get a pair of young men that think they’re above whatever ancient magic is in that thing and, well. Accidents happen. Sometimes they keep them, sometimes not…”

Fenris looked up from the slice of toast he’d been nibbling and fixed Brother Jerrell with a hard stare and predictably repeated, “Sometimes… not?”

“If you decide you don’t want to keep it before three months have passed, you can go back to the clearing and there’ll be a pitcher of water and a towel. Giving yourself and the statue a nice sponge bath usually does the trick at, er…”

“Terminating the child,” Anders finished in a low voice, an arm reflexively wrapping around his middle. Grizelda turned around, two cups of mint tea in her hands, and she sighed as she set them in front of Anders and Fenris. “Yes, well. Some people are just not quite ready to be parents, or they’re too young or would just rather not have children at all. I’m sure you’ve had to help out a girl or two who was in a tough spot, you know how it is.”

“I, yes,” Anders huffed, “but that was different.”

  
“Because they weren’t you? Or a Warden?” Brother Jerrell guessed. “Grey Warden infertility is about as infamous as their stamina. Still, it’s the only way to make the whole thing seem more like a dream unless you really want to keep them.”

“So… say I did, um. Keep it,” Anders said at last. “How does… I assume they’re born the same way they were, um… conceived?” Grizelda nodded. “Best I can tell, yes. And there’s a kind of lubricant involved that helps keep fecal matter from interfering with the birth.” Anders nodded, trying to slide into the role of healer. Anything to distance himself from these wild swings in his mood. “What about milk? Would I…?”

“Produce it? Yeah. You won’t swell as much, being a man, but you’ll definitely notice when your shirts start getting tight about the chest and when you start lactating, obviously.”

She glanced at Fenris, who hadn’t said but a few words the entire time and had only been slowly munching his toast and drinking the mint tea while occasionally giving Anders a few very concerned once-overs.

“What about you dear? Do you have any questions?”

Fenris started, his gaze snapping to hers instantly. “Um,” he mumbled, floundering for a question. “How… I mean…” A lyrium-lined hand ran quickly through white hair as Fenris grumbled in frustration before finally he sighed and glanced down at his middle.

“Has anyone ever died birthing one of these children? I know it can happen even with the best of healers on hand.”

Beside him, Anders’ dour mood lifted to be replaced with surprise and… concern? Was the elf asking for Anders’ sake or his own? Grizelda actually chuckled at that one, which caused both Anders and Fenris to look up at her, standing there staring at them like they were the most adorable things she’d ever seen, her lips quirked upwards in a slight half-smile.

“Actually, no. Not in all my years of being the midwife here. No one who’s ever gone to that statue to conceive, whether they were born with the equipment to do so or not, has ever had a close encounter with death on the birthing bed. Or chair, as the case might be.”

Fenris nodded slowly. “I… I see.”

“You know, we probably should’ve told them sooner,” Brother Jerrell groused. “It’s gotta be one hell of a way to find out, like this.” Anders turned to the retired Chantry Brother, tilting his head curiously. “Are you sure you were a Chantry Brother? You seem remarkably calm about this whole thing.”

Brother Jerrell snorted. “I’ve just been here long enough to not give two shits about such things anymore. But that’s also why I send people to the city every once in a while, to make sure that the sisters there haven’t turn that poor boy Jamie’s mind to mush. He grew up here, so he knows, you know? He volunteered to be my replacement someday, cause it’s not like I’m getting any younger, but if the sisters start trying to convince him that magic has absolutely no redeeming value whatsoever and mages are sins against the Maker and all that rot, I might just pull him outta there and start my own Chantry.”

He huffed, shaking his head and continued to grumble half under his breath, “Chantry can go fuck itself if it thinks such backward ways of thinking are going to help better people’s lives…”

“I get the feeling that you were, um… put here on purpose, weren’t you?” Fenris asked.

Grizelda chortled, finally joining the three of them at the table. “Apparently, this one was almost named a heretic about seven times, but he’d always get away with avoiding charges somehow, so the Chantry put him here where it could forget about him and leave him to fade into obscurity. Now, the first time this whole mess occurred after he arrived,” she gestured to the two of them, “he did go into a right hissy fit about things until the poor boy who’d been on the receiving end of his ire burst into tears and he turned into a complete softie.”

She grinned, and turned to Brother Jerrell, who merely grunted and muttered, “He was getting tears all over the good tablecloth…”

But Grizelda just waved him away and focused back on Anders and Fenris.

“As for you two… you should probably take a few days to think about this. Perhaps a week? I’ll be by to ask you what you’ve decided, and then we can go from there.”

“What do you mean by that?” Anders asked her. “Other than, well… the usual things I suppose.”

“It’s sort of a custom to tell the town when a couple is expecting,” Brother Jerrell chimed in, not looking up from the book he’d resumed reading. “You’ll probably be the talk of the town for a little while if you both decide to keep them. Multiples have happened on occasion, but usually it’s just the one person who carries them.”

Grizelda snorted, looking like she was debating smacking the man with her spoon again but deciding against it.

“Well. Right. So, you boys go home, do some thinking, and I mean really think about what you want to do, and then we’ll talk ok? Make sure to try to eat some proper meals if you think you can keep them down, but if you’re having trouble just eat some bits of toast or crackers and keep drinking that mint tea, got it?”

Anders and Fenris stood together and nodded simultaneously.

“Yes ma’am,” they said in unison, and Anders opened the door for Fenris to exit the house first, taking one last glance back at the Chantry Brother and the midwife before closing the door behind him.

It was a quiet walk back to their home. Anders’ thoughts swam around in his head like one of those insect dust clouds he’d seen once in the Vimmark Mountains. His stomach was better now, though he could still smell everything and his chest ached even more than it had when he’d gotten up this morning and he wasn’t sure how much was due to the early pregnancy symptoms or just stress.

And Justice… Justice was strangely lacking in opinion of the revelation that had just been explained to them over the course of the morning. He was, however, trying to be… supportive? Comforting? Anders wasn’t sure, but he knew that the sensations of serenity that poked through his fears and anxiety certainly weren’t his. He couldn’t help but let his lips turn upwards in a slight smile that lifted his mood enough to reach out for Fenris’ hand – Maker only knew what was going on in Fenris’ head right now.

As his fingers brushed the elf’s they twitched violently, and Anders thought that Fenris might be too riled up to want his touch just then. However, Fenris’ fingers found his again and grasped them… tightly.

Fenris was afraid. He wouldn’t say as much, not with his words, but Anders understood.

He rubbed gentle circles into the brands on the back of Fenris’ hand with his thumb, hoping that the elf would know that Anders had gotten the message. Anders received a slight squeeze in return. Yes, Fenris understood too.

Silence still settled between them when they entered the clinic. Fenris went in first as Anders closed the door behind them, and when he turned around Fenris had walked over to the pot of mint tea that had been steeping all this time and poured himself another cup.

“Still queasy?” Anders asked quietly as he began to move about the clinic, gathering the items he needed for today’s batch of potions and tonics, making sure to double check the descriptions and ingredients to see if any had toxic fumes or poisonous ingredients. Fenris nodded, glancing over at the bucket on the counter. “You were sick this morning too?”

Anders made a face at the bucket, and he quickly paused what he’d been doing to pour soap and water into it, tossing the contents into the dwarven plumbing system and pressing the filtration rune.

“I was, yes. I did the exact opposite of what I told you to do… tried to hold it in. Ugh. It’s so much worse that way, but I hate being physically ill. Even after that cup of mint tea I can still taste it… urk.” Anders caught a slight whiff of what had previously been in the bucket and immediately put it back where it belonged.

“Anders…?”

Anders caught sight of Fenris’ face, which was more stoic than expressive, but that had definitely been concern in the elf’s voice. Anders waited a few moments for the churning to pass, and then he let himself breathe easy again.

“I’m… I’m fine. For the moment, anyway. Maker, I’m not going to enjoy trips to the washroom if the barest hint of the smell of vomit makes me want to do the same.” He glanced up at Fenris. “Any particular scents throwing you off or is that just my special brand of fun?” Fenris’ lips twitched, and Anders offered Fenris a small smile in return.

“No, I believe that’s just you. I don’t enjoy the thought of eating any time soon, even though I know I still have to eat…”

“We have that jar of crackers in the back room if you’re hungry. We can also try to see if you can keep down something like tomato soup and toast?” Anders offered, just barely holding back a sigh. “Yes, that sounds agreeable.” Fenris was about to head towards the back room to grab the jar when Anders called out to him, unable to keep the weariness from his voice.

“Fenris?”

“Yes?” The elf turned around to glance at him, tension written not on his face, but all over his body as he waited for the inevitable question. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about this just yet, but… we should at least discuss something. And it doesn’t have to be now… it could be tonight, before bed. What do you think?”

Fenris’ body relaxed a little, as Anders had known it would. Giving Fenris the power to decide when and what they would discuss about the whole pregnancy thing seemed to help center him again as he replied in a small, quiet voice, “A discussion about whether or not we want children should come first, I think. Any other discussions would be moot if we do not agree on that.” Anders’ heart beat started to race a little, and Anders could only nod in response before Fenris turned around to fetch the crackers.

Anders didn’t have any more moments of sickness later that day, though there was a close call or two when the scent of an ingredient didn’t settle with him, and even Fenris was able to hold down his crackers and tea until dinner. Anders had decided to go with chicken soup broth first, and Fenris seemed able to keep that down as well. Therefore he seemed to be in good spirits when the sun had finally set and they were readying themselves for bed.

Anders, however, was less at ease when he slid his legs under the covers and sat very straight and still, his arms close to his body, once again held protectively across his middle.

None of this appeared to go unnoticed by the elf.

“Anders,” he whispered, startling the mage. “Please, lie down. I haven’t forgotten our talk.”

Anders let out a soft whine as he slid under the covers at last, curling in on himself and sniffling. When had he started crying?

“Anders? What’s wrong?” Fenris asked, ever so gently pulling the blond against him.

“I don’t know,” Anders whispered, and he quickly broke down into sobs as Fenris held him and whispered sweet nothings into Anders’ ear until the tears subsided. “Are you better now?” Fenris whispered in return, only receiving a deep, wet sigh in response. Anders sniffled again and tried to clear his throat.

“I want kids,” he blurted. “I want them so badly I didn’t know how badly until now.” Anders’ nose was stuffy from crying, and the feeling of the mage shuddering through a silent sob brought tears to his own eyes. “I want to hold them in my arms and hear their first words, I want… I just want. I don’t think this is the statue that’s making me feel this way; Maker, I want… I want this baby, Fenris, but mostly I want it ‘cause it’s yours.”

Fenris felt his own tears run down his face as Anders’ words, and a few fell on the mage’s cheek, causing Anders to look up.

“Oh, Fenris! I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry...”

“Hush, mage.” Fenris shushed, and Anders was quiet again, but had shifted so than he was leaning against an elbow, making their gazes level with one another. “Fenris…” he tried again, but Fenris shook his head and pressed a finger to Anders’ lips.

“Anders. I… I’ve had a lot of time to think since this morning about what to say tonight, and… I, I think I knew what you wanted. I only had to decide… whether or not I wanted it too.”

Anders’ eyes were all in shadow, because he was facing away from the window and the moonlight that shone through it, but Fenris with his enhanced sight could see the anticipation that lay within their depths. He removed the finger from Anders’ lips, and moved to capture them with his own for the briefest of moments before pulling away just enough to catch Anders’ gaze.

“I don’t know yet it if I want to keep… mine,” Fenris whispered, pausing for the briefest of moments, “but… I would not be opposed to raising a child with you. Especially if you truly want it as much as you do. My love. My one and only.” And then Fenris’ arms were once again full of sobbing mage, but this time they were happy tears.

Anders was saying “I love you” over and over into his sleeping shirt, and Fenris was more than happy to hold him close until they fell asleep, and all was quiet and still until morning.

* * *

The stillness was broken by a newly familiar churning in Fenris’ stomach, and he quickly stole off to the washroom before he was sick all over his lover or their bed.

Anders found him a little while later, performing breathing exercises and clinging to the washbin this time, though Fenris had yet to empty the contents of his stomach into it. Anders also came with two steaming cups of mint tea, one of which Fenris took gladly as Anders sat down on the floor next to him.

“Thought you might be in here when you weren’t in the bed when I woke up… decided to bring some tea.” He leaned over and glanced in the washbin, and his eyebrows rose a little in apparent surprise. “You seem to be doing better this morning, though. Or… am I wrong?” Anders looked him over, concern etching itself into lines on his forehead and at the edges of his eyes. Fenris merely took the tea and began sipping at it gingerly.

“I’ve come very close a couple times since I left our bedroom, it… it comes and goes.”

Silence reigned for a little while until Anders shifted and Fenris glanced over at his movement, hearing the mage’s slight intake of breath before he spoke.

“So… about last night.”

Now it was Fenris’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “What about last night? Did I not answer the question?” Anders made a face and shook his head. “No, you… you answered it. But… it just occurred to me that… that even though I do want this child,” Anders sighed wistfully as he glanced down and gingerly placed one hand over his stomach, “I realize that now might not be the best time to have children.”

Fenris thought about that for a moment. Yes, it was true, the timing wasn’t likely the best. They hadn’t even been in this town for a year yet, and there was still the unrest of the Circles to keep in mind. How far would that unrest reach should… no, when it became a full rebellion?

Still, they had been together several years before this, in Kirkwall. Fenris had seen the looks Anders gave the babies he’d helped bring into the world, and his heart had ached a little knowing that he couldn’t give Anders that.

Yet now he could if he wanted to, and it was safer here than Kirkwall to raise a child. Or… children. Fenris shivered through another wave of nausea and tensed for a heartbeat or two as he debated whether or not he should put down his tea before or after he threw up, but the sensation passed and he sighed softly in relief before he lifted the cup to his lips and muttered, “Well, we’re not getting any younger, Anders. Is there ever the right time to have a child when one is a former slave… or a mage?”

Anders appeared taken aback at this question.

“I… well. I suppose you have a point.”

But then Anders shook his head and sighed again, finishing his cup of tea and setting it aside.

“What I think I’m trying to say is… um, even though I’m willing to see this through, to actually keep this baby and carry it to term as weird and utterly bizarre as that sounds, you… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Anders’ features were pinched with discomfort and sorrow, and Fenris could tell that just saying those words had been hard for Anders. After all, the man was a healer; he preferred to save lives than cut them off before they were even fully formed, but he also valued the right of choice especially when it came to one’s body.

“I could tell you were afraid of something yesterday,” Anders continued, “and I didn’t know what it was about. I got worried, and I think that was a part of why I was so wound up last night.”

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Fenris told him honestly, finishing his own cup of tea. “But a little of that fear is still lingering, and like you said last night… I don’t know where it’s coming from. I also don’t think it’s something that you can help with other than just to continue doing as you have been; taking care of me – us – during all of this. I have to figure this one out on my own.”

Anders frowned at him, the concern still lingering in his eyes, but he nodded slowly.

“I see. Well, you look a little better than you did when I came in. Do you want to try eating some toast? Landry’s husband brought a jar of apple butter by yesterday afternoon as payment for a few potions and ointments if you want some.”

That had Fenris’ interest immediately.

“You had but to say the word apples and you would have had me.”

Anders chuffed, moving to stand and wincing as he did so, rubbing a little at one breast. “If I’d’ve known back when we first met how much you liked them, you would have had more apples than you knew what to do with…”

Fenris snorted. “The things you say, mage.”

Anders offered him a hand up and Fenris took it as he picked up his teacup, joining Anders for a light breakfast before he headed out for the day. It had been a few days since he’d felt well enough to check the their traps and he thought perhaps he could also do a little hunting while he was out.

The quiet would give him a chance to think without worrying Anders more than he had already.

* * *

  
A few more days passed in this fashion, with Fenris usually heading to the washroom in the hours just before dawn, with Anders joining him sometime later with a cup of mint tea and about half an hour’s conversation about how they were feeling, what things they felt they could try eating, and so on.

The more weighty conversation topics were reserved for later in the day after dinner or just before bed, and usually they were about whatever particular question had been posed that morning, to give them time to think.

However, the day before their week’s deliberation was to be up, Anders had gotten up and prepared his tea as usual and brought some to Fenris, who unfortunately hadn’t been able to keep down last night’s dinner (though to be fair neither had Anders – he’d caught a whiff of some scent from outside that his stomach hadn’t been happy with and into the nearest bucket had gone his own dinner) something was different about the atmosphere between them.

“I want to go back,” Fenris told Anders after a particularly nasty round with the washbin.

“Back…?” Anders squeaked, his heart rate picking up a few ticks shy of comfortable, making it difficult to breathe. “Do you mean back to…”

“To the statue, yes.”

Anders was silent for a very long time, and when Fenris looked over at him, Anders’ eyes were brimming with unshed tears. However, Anders merely rubbed at them with one sleeve, sniffed wetly, and then nodded solemnly.

“Anders,” Fenris sighed, shifting over to gently grasp one of the mage’s trembling hands, “hush, my love. I haven’t decided anything yet. I merely wish to go back and do some thinking.”

“You’ve been doing an awful lot of that recently.” Anders offered him a weak smile. “Be careful, won’t you? I’ve heard it’s a dangerous pastime.” Fenris scoffed and groaned, shaking his head. “I assure you, I am fine. It is merely that I have not found the answers to my questions in the usual places I might find them… I thought perhaps if I went back and did some thinking there, it would help.”

Anders hummed noncommittally. “I envy you and that skill of yours… I have never been able to find solace in silence. At least… not for a very long time.” Anders frowned, sniffed wetly again, and shook his head to clear it.

“So… when do you want to go? And do you want to go alone?”

“I would not refuse your company on the way there, but I would ask for my solitude after arriving. And… after lunch sounds as good a time as any I suppose. In case I decide to see if another nap in that clearing will give me the answers I seek. But I should be back before you fall asleep, I promise, and if I am not I shall wake you should I have come to a decision about keeping it.”

“I’ll pack you some snacks, then. So you’re not hungry come dinnertime.”

Fenris inclined his head a little, his ears twitching slightly. “You are being remarkably calm about this. I thought you might react… differently.”

Anders shrugged, a deep sigh following Fenris’ observation.

“I have already said that the choice is yours, Fenris, and I would not give voice to the fears I am certain you already know on the off chance that you will make a choice that you regret. A child should been seen as a blessing; not something to regret.” He leaned over, brushed Fenris’ bangs to one side and pressed a kiss to his forehead, right in the middle of the three dots of lyrium that were embedded there. “Now, do you think you could manage some toast or would you prefer some more tea?”

Fenris merely smiled and took his hand, following Anders back downstairs to brave an attempt at eating breakfast before he came back to clean up after himself and gather what things he needed to spend an afternoon in the woods.

And so it was that the two of them walked back out to the statue’s clearing, with Fenris carrying a small basket that contained a pillow, a thick blanket, some snacks, and a canteen of water. The walk wasn’t silent by any means, not with the sounds of the forest surrounding them, but neither man spoke except to bid their goodbyes when they reached the statue clearing.

“Try not to let my troubles cause trouble for you,” Fenris told Anders when the taller man had leaned down to press their foreheads together. “Perhaps take a nap of your own when you get back? I know you had trouble sleeping again last night.”

Anders hummed in response and kissed the elf’s cheek before he pulled away.

“I make no promises love, but I shall do my best not to dwell on your absence.” And that was all Fenris dared to ask of him, knowing that request alone would be difficult enough.

Fenris waited until even his sharp elven hearing could no longer hear the crunch of Anders’ boots in the fallen leaves before he turned around to look at the statue again. She still sat on her dais, her legs crossed underneath her and off to one side, still wearing naught but the pendant around her neck and the veil over her head. But this time Fenris now noticed where her hands were: her right bent low to cup her belly, the fingers bent in a graceful, caressing movement while the left was planted firmly on the dais to support her weight.

Beside that hand sat a spotless porcelain pitcher with a fluffy white towel next to it.

Fenris couldn’t remember how long he’d stood there staring at the two items when he’d finally broken from the trance that’d had him so spellbound, only he thought it had to have been for some time because when he glimpsed the sun’s position from between the leaves above, it had definitely shifted a good amount.

He shook his head and turned away from the two items; they weren’t what he was here for… at least for now. Instead, he set down the basket, pulled out the blanket and pillow, and settled down to let his thoughts wander in the quiet of the clearing.

Eventually, his thoughts wandered slower and slower until they began to slip through the Fade, and his breathing evened out to the rhythmic rise and fall of a deeply dreaming sleeper.

Fenris dreamt of the clearing, the statue’s dais remained where it was, the forest still and silent as before. But in this dream the statue’s dais was covered in soft blankets and furs, the braziers that had been unlit in Fenris’ waking moments now blazing with light. On the dais itself was the statue, or rather a woman who looked like the statue. It had been difficult to spot that just from looking at her skin – sometimes Fenris would look and it would be as pale as Anders’ with freckles sprayed like the stars of the night’s sky across its surface, other times it was as dark as his own – but it was the veil and the pendant that told him this woman was whoever the statue had been modeled from.

“Are you Andraste?” he asked the woman, moving to stand from the place he’d laid down to rest. “Or are you one of the elven goddesses?”

The woman’s loving glance at her swollen belly shifted, and Fenris froze where he stood when her gaze caught his even though he could not see it through the veil. Her lips remained visible however, and they quirked upwards in a bemused smile as she chuckled.

“Does that matter?” she answered his question with one of her own.

“You came seeking answers, but not to those questions.” Fenris frowned, knowing she was right and yet not sure how the woman would know why he’d come. Vaguely, it registered that perhaps he might be talking to a demon if this was the Fade, but a stronger part of him was certain that was not the case.

“If you know the questions I came to ask, then what are the answers?”

The woman laughed, and it sounded to Fenris like the soft chimes of the metal instruments that Anders liked to hang from their doorstep on windy afternoons.

“Answers to questions like the ones you carry in your heart are not as simple as you wish they were, dear. Especially when they are accompanied by fear. Why don’t you start by telling yourself what you’re afraid of? Then the answers you seek may come to you.”

The woman’s words stung like an arrow to the chest, but he knew she was right about the fear, and there was some guilt there too when he looked close enough. Fenris sighed, rubbing at his chest. Recently he’d begun to ache there just as Anders was, but now the sensation only added to his discomfort.

“I’m… I’m afraid of what I don’t know.” Fenris said at last, and once the words were out he was unable to stop a torrent of them from falling from his lips. “I know… sort of what pregnancy means for a woman, but for a man? It feels strange. Even Anders says it feels strange to him, but he is willing to go through with this if it means we’ll have a child that is completely ours. I don’t know how to conduct myself safely – what if I overwork myself because I am used to pushing the limits of my strength and it hurts the baby? What if–”

He stopped the words for a moment to take a few short, shaky breaths, knowing that if he said much more he might say too much, but there was still one more thing he felt he needed to say.

“What if I am not a good parent? Anders has such gentle hands; any child would do well with him looking after them. But my hands? My hands were not made for such things. They were made for killing, for slaying. They were not made to hold and caress small, vulnerable children.”

All was silent in the clearing after that, until at last a soft sigh escaped the woman, a sound not unlike when an ocean’s waters crash upon soft beach sand.

“Oh… how much your elf eyes see, and yet so little. Come. Come close. I wish to show you something.” The woman beckoned to him with her right hand, and Fenris found himself obeying the request until he stood right in front of her. “Give me your hand,” she told him, and Fenris gave it. Her skin felt strangely light and cool, but it was not unpleasant to touch; Fenris let his hand be guided to the skin of her belly, the heavy roundness of it feeling warm and firm under his touch. “Feel,” she encouraged. “And be patient, it might take a moment.”

Indeed, a moment was all it took, for it wasn’t long before a swift pressure fluttered beneath his fingertips, causing Fenris’ breath to escape him in a rush. His other hand wrapped around his own middle, having felt… something inside him respond to the movement, and the woman’s lips turned up in a soft smile once more.

“Feel the strength in this life I carry? That same strength lies inside you now. Strength that was put there from an act of love and tenderness which you were indeed capable of giving. Do you feel it now, oh seeker of answers? You and your partner had a bond so overflowing with love that it felt only natural to bless you both with vessels of that love. Do you not know that you are not alone in this? It is alright to be afraid when one does not know what comes next, but you have someone to lean on, to ask for help when it is needed. Do not forget that…”

As the woman was speaking, Fenris felt something inside him shift. The tight knot of fear was unravelling just a little, letting him breathe a little easier.

When she let him go, the movement that had brushed his hand still lingered there, even as he wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling quite exposed despite being fully clothed. The woman just smiled at him serenely, and a sleepy sort of peace fell over him.

“Go back to your dreams, and when you wake, do not rush your decision. Take some time to think, have some water, a bit of food. Yet, do not take too long for your partner worries, and his heart aches for you. He needs your strength as much as you need his, so go and rest, rest and regain your strength for him. May your dreams be pleasant, sweet seeker.”

Fenris woke feeling strangely at peace, and when he glanced over at the dais, the statue was only a statue, and the pitcher of water still sat next to the folded white towel, only the braziers on either side of it were burning brightly where they hadn’t been before.

He knew it should have bothered him to know that if some sort of magic hadn’t lit them, then some person had, but strangely he was certain it was nothing to worry about. So Fenris ate his small meal, took a drink of water from his canteen, and he let his thoughts dwell on Anders, wondering how the man was doing back at home.

Anders, for his part, had managed quite well… for a while.

He had returned home and had began working on doing some preparations for the coming winter, cutting wood for fires and curing meats with salt and ice. He brewed potions and saw to a few people’s injuries and illnesses, so he had no shortage of things to do to keep his mind busy while his hands kept moving. He’d tried napping, briefly, but he had been too restless and had decided to just work instead. So it was only when he was readying himself for bed and there was no sign of Fenris that he started to worry.

He fell asleep, alone in their bed, only just managing it because Justice was crooning to him one of the half remembered Ander lullabies in his head. His sleep was fitful, and a part of one dream featured him, very pregnant and helping a similarly pregnant Fenris give birth, but when the babe was finally in his arms, it refused to cry no matter what he tried and Maker, no his own labor was starting–

“Fenris!” he shouted, sitting bolt upright and shivering, tears streaming down his face. Despair tore its icy claws into his heart, and for a moment he felt as though he’d have to get up to run for the washroom, his sorrow was so upsetting.

But then he heard footsteps running up the stairs and the door to the second floor opening and closing rapidly, followed by the door to the bedroom opening. Fenris stood there for only the briefest of heartbeats before going to Anders’ side, tossing the basket to one side to crawl under the covers with Anders and pull the mage against him.

“Hush,” Fenris soothed, gently rubbing at Anders’ back with one hand. “Hush, I’m here love. What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

Anders just nodded and clung to Fenris, listening to the elf’s measured breathing.

“I’m sorry I got back so late. It was darker than I thought when I made my way back… had to use the moonlight to find my way. Wasn’t easy with all those leaves above me,” he grumbled. That earned him a slightly wet chuckle from Anders, who sniffed and shifted so that their cuddling was a little more comfortable. “Can’t imagine it was easy… say, did… did you find what you were looking for out there?”

“I did,” came Fenris’ reply.

“...and?” Anders’ soft voice followed.

Fenris took a deep breath, and he clung tight to Anders just as Anders had had clung to him only mere moments ago.

“I… I’ve decided to keep it,” he said at last, and Anders’ head jerked up to meet Fenris’ gaze, his expression all once full of too many emotions to name. “You’re keeping it?” Anders breathed, shifting until he sat perched on the backs of his calves. “You’re… you’re really keeping it?”

Fenris nodded. “Yes. I… I realized that what I was afraid of was something so… inconsequential in the face of the partnership that I have with you. Together you and I can do this, I think, and even though I am still afraid, I know that I can draw what strength I think I lack… from you.” Anders blinked at him owlishly.

“Strength? Me? But you… it is you who is the strong one…?”

Fenris chuffed. “Perhaps. Sometimes. But not all the time. I have moments when I doubt myself, when I believe I cannot be tender or sweet, and yet… yet I find that when I touch you and you do not shy away but enjoy it… I find a kind of strength in that. In you. That is why I decided to keep the child… because I know you can teach me to be gentle with it as you taught me to be gentle with you.”

“That’s…” Anders huffed out a short sigh of amazement, “I had no idea you felt that way, I… I’m touched.”

Fenris chuckled, and moved to press Anders against the mattress, laying on top of the mage as he’d done that night five weeks ago, though he was careful not to press his weight too much against their sensitive chests. “Mmm, not quite in the way I’d like to touch you, love,” he breathed, and he covered Anders’ mouth with a kiss, his tongue doing something that caused Anders to let out a low moan and buck his hips against Fenris’.

Neither man slept much that night, though it was not from bad dreams or frustrated tossing in their sleep. Yet when the midwife knocked on their door early the next morning, it was a sleepy Fenris with lightly tousled hair who opened it and showed her in, while Anders was making a light breakfast, whistling and brewing pot of mint tea behind the counter.

“You seem to be doing well this morning,” she commented, taking in the scene before her.

Anders paused his whistling to smile at her and press a quick kiss of greeting to her cheek.

“It’s a good morning,” he told her seriously. “Last I checked there wasn’t a crime in enjoying a good morning.”

Grizelda chuckled. “I suppose not. But you boys know why I’m here, hmm? Have you decided what you’re going to do about your conditions?”

Beside her, Fenris nodded, rubbing sleep from one eye.

“Yes. We’re going to keep them.”

She raised a curious eyebrow at him, her lips quirking up in a small smile. “Is that so? Whatever made you decide? You boys didn’t just decide to say that and not think about it?” Anders sighed, turning back to fixing their breakfast. “Oh, we thought about it plenty, ma’am. I decided pretty early on that I wanted mine about midway through the conversation about whether or not we even wanted kids in the first place…”

“...whereas I took my sweet time and didn’t decide until last night,” Fenris finished, moving to sit on the stool closest to the side of the counter opposite Anders. “I had to go back to the clearing and spend some time in the quiet…” he paused, frowning at a memory. “I… had a very strange dream that the statue was alive and that we had a conversation about fear and strength and some other things.” Fenris shrugged as the midwife stared at him curiously. “Either way, it helped me figure things out in the end. Even though I’m still… a little afraid about what is to come, I know that I can take comfort in the fact that I have Anders by my side to draw strength from when I need it.”

He shrugged, looking back up at Grizelda. “So, yes. We spent a lot of time thinking about it.”

She huffed and eyed Anders with amusement. “Well, it seems Jerrell owes me for this one. We were pretty sure you were going to keep yours,” she told them, pointing to Anders, “ but you,” she continued, waggling a finger at Fenris, “you only I was sure about.”

“I can’t believe you bet on this,” Anders groaned.

The old woman snorted. “Oh please, it wasn’t a serious bet. But deciding to keep these babies is. Are you truly certain?”

“Yes,” they said in unison, pausing to stare at each other and then laughing a moment later.

“Yes,” Anders repeated, turning to her. “You know that I know children are a huge commitment, and we wouldn’t be making this decision if we thought we weren’t ready. But, thank you for asking.” Anders offered the midwife a small smile. “We appreciate it, we truly do.”

Grizelda nodded, accepting his thanks.

“There is one thing that concerns me,” he added afterwards.

“Oh? Something about the pregnancy?”

Anders shook his head. “No, not really. I helped plenty young women through pregnancies of varying difficulties, so I’m not too worried if something seems unusual. And, if there is something I don’t know, I’ll ask you.” He flashed her a smile. “But… what about cradles? Clothing? Toys? Maker, I… I just realized I don’t know how to fully baby-proof a house. I only ever had the clinic to worry about.”

Grizelda merely shook her head and sighed.

“I’m sure you’ll get all those things and then some from the people of the town. Some might donate used cradles, clothes, bedding, others might help you make additions to the house if you ask for it, don’t you worry.”

“So when do you tell them…?” Fenris asked, very quietly. The old midwife scoffed. “Ah. Next town meeting. Then we have you stand up so you can die of embarrassment for about a minute or two and that’s about it. Really, don’t you worry your pretty little heads about it, alright? You just take care of yourselves for those babies.”

“Yes ma’am,” the two men said in unison and Grizelda just turned and left, laughing to herself on her way out.

Fenris turned to Anders after the door had closed, one eyebrow raised in question.

“She’s not really going tell the whole town, is she?” he asked Anders, who sighed. “She and Brother Jerrell did say it was something of a tradition. Looks like we’re stuck enduring a few minutes in the spotlight.” Anders reached over and plucked an egg from a box of them, cracking it on the edge of the counter and pouring the contents over the sizzling pan he was keeping warm with magic. He tossed the shells into a bin and moved to begin scrambling said egg, until he paused, catching the scent of the eggs.

“Anders,” Fenris sighed, “go on. Just please, not into the eggs?”

Anders laughed shakily, shivered a bit, and then shoved his spatula at Fenris before he turned around and tossed the contents of his stomach into the same bin.

Fenris merely sighed again and slid off his stool to walk around to finish scrambling the eggs himself, for once feeling a little smug that he hadn’t been the first to throw up that morning. It was a good feeling, yet he couldn’t wait for the day neither of them felt the need to keep a bucket handy because by then they might be showing, which Fenris found he was looking forward to quite earnestly.

* * *

  
About a week later, Midwife Grizelda stood up at the town meeting to announce new the month's new pregnancies, births, and birthdays, as she kept very good records about these things, and of course Anders and Fenris became the talk of the town for a few days after it was revealed that they were both expecting.

Anders realized later exactly how much this told the rest of the townsfolk about their sex life, but Fenris seemed determined to take this in stride.

Eventually the gossipping did die down and for a while there was a stream of well wishes and congratulations from anyone they passed by or whoever came into the clinic looking for them. Several people promised to bring them hand-me-down clothes, cloth diapers, toys, while others promised to bring cradles or altered maternity clothing.

“Trust me, you’ll want them,” Blacksmith Landry had told them when he said he was going to look into having the ones he and his husband had used altered for Anders and Fenris. “Daniel’s about Fenris’ size, if a little less on the lean side, and though you’re taller than me it shouldn’t matter much. They’ll be a little roomy for a while when you first start wearing them but trust me, they won’t stay that way,” he laughed heartily. Anders had merely nodded and gave the dark-skinned blacksmith a curious once-over.

“So… you’ve done this before… as has your husband?”

Landry nodded. “Yeah. Though, we knew what we were doing there. You, ah, probably found out the hard way, huh?”

“Yeah,” Anders agreed sheepishly. “But… I’m actually kind of excited. It’s weird.”

“You always struck me as the sort of man who’d look good with children, Healer,” Landry told him, grinning. “I’ll do my best to get those clothes altered for you before you run out of things you can wear.”

Anders thanked him, chuckling, “That time’ll probably come faster than we think, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

And that reality settled in faster than they thought it would, for about four weeks later, Anders heard Fenris yawning awake and rolled over to watch (because watching him stretch was like watching a cat: he liked to take his time and knew that Anders was very appreciative of this) when he noticed something different as Fenris threw off his half of the covers, sleeping shirt riding up as his back arched during a long, drawn-out stretch.

“Hey, Fenris… hold still a moment,” Anders whispered, and Fenris laid back down, staring sleepily at Anders as the other man sat on his haunches to excitedly reach over and press a hand against Fenris’ middle.

“Look, you’re starting to show,” Anders’ whisper came again with much more excitement.

That had Fenris wide awake, a hand reaching down to feel for the evidence, and sure enough Anders guided his hand to feel the slight swelling there that was too firm under his fingers to be an overindulgence of anything, even if he had been able to keep down all of his meals the past few weeks. Fenris felt as his heart began to race a little and he reached for Anders’ hand to grasp it tightly, seeking comfort.

“This is… really happening.”

Anders frowned, lying back down next to him and cuddling close.

“Yeah. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… I think I’m just a little overwhelmed is all.”

Anders nodded, and just held him close until the moment passed and Fenris felt his breathing even out again. “Thank you, Anders. That was very helpful.” Anders shook his head. “It was nothing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Fenris pulled himself into a sitting position, and though when his sleeping shirt fell back down to cover his stomach the little bump wasn’t at all apparent, he was now acutely aware of its existence. Gingerly, he pressed a hand there, still staring down in wonder.

“I… yes. I think I’m alright. But… I do wonder why you’ve not started showing yet? We definitely conceived these two at the same time.”

  
Anders frowned, and reached over to where Fenris hands lay.

“May I cast a spell? I just want to check something. It’s nothing serious, I promise.” Fenris squirmed a little bit, but let Anders cast his spell, watching as Anders’ face changed first from concentration to surprise, trepidation, and finally, excitement. “Is everything alright, Anders?”

“Um… yeah. Maker. Bet–better than alright, um. Ah. You’re carrying twins, Fenris. That’s why you started showing this early.”

He looked up at Fenris, biting his lip in the most adorable fashion Fenris had ever seen.

“So… we’re going to have three. Or…?”

“No, I’m most definitely carrying one. I’ve checked. So yes, three.”

Fenris slid back further onto the bed so he was completely horizontal and reached up to massage his forehead very gently. “Oh. Good.” Fenris groaned and closed his eyes. “What exactly have we gotten ourselves into?”

Anders chuckled softly. “Trouble. But of the best kind, perhaps.”

“Hmm. Right.”

Anders merely kissed Fenris’ forehead before getting up to start breakfast, making a note to tell Landry that Fenris’ clothing might need a few extra alterations. (However, as luck would have it, Daniel’s pregnancy had been one of the few blessed with a pair of twins, so Landry just laughed and told Anders he’d be sure to keep it in mind.)

It took about three more weeks after that for Anders to start showing, though it was more something he’d felt than seen. A little thing that had been wriggling at the back of his mind all day until he’d had a moment of time to take a break, untucking his shirt and suddenly surprised when he could actually see the little bit of belly that was beginning to pooch over the lip of his trousers. The sight of it made him… more aroused than one person probably should be when looking at their own body, but when he tried to go back to work his erection became more and more difficult to ignore.

He’d had to wank out a few quick ones before the next customer came in (or Maker forbid, someone he actually needed to invite behind the counter and into the clinic), but eventually he managed to get his dick under control.

Anders was still majorly horny that evening though, and Fenris definitely noticed.

“Finally noticed that you started showing, did you?”

“What? You knew?” Anders snapped playfully, pressing his very naked lover against the bed, cocks grinding, the slight bumps of their bellies rubbing together. Fenris’ was more pronounced, and that seemed to make it all the more arousing.

“Of course I did. I was waiting for you to notice though…”

“Just for this reason, I bet,” Anders accused, panting harshly. “We’d,” –pant– “we’d better take advantage of the time we have left to do this face to face… the time’ll come faster than we think when we won’t be able to."

For emphasis, Anders reached down to cup Fenris’ belly with both hands, gently rubbing with his thumbs as he grinded against his partner, their bellies sliding ever so slightly against one another. Fenris threw his head back and moaned. “Yes, oh yes please,” was all he said in reply, and Anders said in reply was, “Turn over for me, won’t you?” before he moved down lower to have his way with the elf.

Another month and a half passed, and nothing particularly exciting happened other than many more visits from people bringing more food by, Grizelda stopping in on occasion to ask how they were doing (and to give tips to Fenris about how to handle his pregnancy, since growing two babies was most certainly harder on the body than one), and Landry stopped by with a few shirts that he and Daniel had finished altering.

“We’re working on the others as fast as we can,” he said sheepishly. “Just be patient.”

Anders had nodded, thanked him for the shirts, and sent him on his way.

There hadn’t been as much growing in those six weeks, at least for Anders. He did have a nice round pooch that could have been mistaken for a love of the fried foods he kept craving, but Fenris on the other hand had grown considerably, and even though they were both only 18 weeks along it was now very obvious that Fenris was pregnant with twins. He tired more easily, and Anders advised him that it was better to rest if he didn’t feel like getting up and doing anything. They had plenty of reading material from their last trip into Amaranthine though, so Fenris seemed quite content to rest whenever he felt tired. Mostly he was just grateful that the morning sickness was gone.

But Anders knew that they should start feeling the babies move right around this time. It wouldn’t be very long at all. It thrilled him so much that his excitement was infectious, and it was very late in the evening when he was hovering on the edge of sleep… he felt it.

His eyes flew open and his breath caught in his throat.

Would it happen again? Or was that just–

No. It most definitely happened again. And again. Soft flutterings against his insides suddenly had him in tears, and beside him, Fenris stirred.

“Anders…? What is it? Are you alright?”

“Oh,” Anders managed to squeak out in a whisper, “oh yes. I’m better than alright. Fenris, I felt it. I felt the baby move!” He grasped Fenris’ hand and placed it on his belly, hoping that the baby would move again soon. “Please,” he pleaded, “move again for Vati?” And there it was, and suddenly Fenris was similarly spellbound by the flutters until he gasped and his other hand flew to his own belly.

“The twins… they’re… they’re moving too.”

Anders and Fenris shifted so that they could both have their hands on each other’s bellies, marvelling at the sensations from within and without.

“This is…” Anders breathed, “...just so surreal. Sweet Maker, it’s... “ He sniffed wetly, unable to keep himself from crying again, but when he looked up to see why Fenris was so quiet, it was because the elf’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“I know,” Fenris whispered wetly. “I feel it too.”

Anders scooted closer, reaching up to gently cup Fenris’ face in his hands. “I know you might still be afraid,” he whispered, “hell, I’m a little afraid sometimes, knowing the kind of world we’re trying to bring these children into. But Maker… am I ever glad I’m able to experience this with you.” And then he brought his lips to Fenris’, and the elf was all too eager to reciprocate. Fenris’ hands moved from their bellies to pull Anders as close to him as said bellies would allow.

It was closer than Anders had thought they’d be able to get, but he thought maybe, just maybe… they might still be able to have sex this way if they were willing to be patient.

Maker. Not that he really wanted to be. Between his increased sex drive and the elf in his arms, sometimes all he could think about during the day was just coming back up here or using one of the few downstairs beds for the occasional overnight patients and, well. Not moving from it for a very long time, at the very least.

As Fenris pulled him as close as was physically possible, Anders moved his legs to intertwine with the elf’s, trying to see if he could brush a leg up against the elf’s cock… eventually he was rewarded with a quiet groan as Fenris bucked against Anders’ knee, seeking friction despite their lower halves still clothed in smalls and sleep pants.

“Anders,” Fenris growled, “do not tease me if you do not plan to finish what you’ve started…”

Anders chuckled darkly. “Oh, I plan to finish. Repeatedly. But first… I think I could still ride you if I’m careful enough. Would you like to try? We can always do it another way if it doesn’t work out.” Fenris nodded as Anders maneuvered him onto his back and slightly propped up against the headboard with Anders straddling his thighs. The sight Anders’ nicely rounded belly peeking up over the crest of his own appeared to arouse the elf further, eliciting a grin from the mage.

“Going to use a spell,” he warned. “Too impatient to look for lube in the dark.”

Fenris chuckled. “That’s fine. Be as thorough as you need, but try to be quick or I might just turn you over and do you myself.” The elf reached up with one hand to grope a pectoral, teasing the nipple by brushing his fingers across it while his other hand went to his belly where the twins were evidently still very active. Anders huffed, hurriedly tearing off his smalls and pants before casting a slick spell and scooting back to stretch himself as quickly as possible. Though once he started, he knew that he was already so aroused it would be difficult to stretch himself as thoroughly as he’d like and make an attempt at riding Fenris before coming once. He groaned, removing his fingers momentarily.

“Sorry Fen, I need to rub one out before I can stretch anymore.” He hissed as he grasped his cock, which was already fully hard and leaking precum profusely. “Maker, it really ought to be a crime to be so fucking horny, uhnnn…”

Fenris wanted to roll over and rut into the mattress at the sight of Anders, naked and pregnant on his knees, jerking off furiously in the moonlight that was streaming through their bedroom windows. However he knew that was probably a bad idea without the proper support to keep his weight off of the babies, so he had to make do with his hands and the vision that was his mate.

“Anders,” he half panted, half whined, “please. Rub against me.” Anders’ glazed eyes met his and he undid Fenris’ laces, pulling his smalls and pants down in one go. He straddled Fenris’ thighs again until their erections brushed against one another, causing both men to groan. Anders bent double over the elf as he rutted against him, his hands gently massaging the elf’s belly and the lyrium brands there.

“So good,” Anders breathed, “just this, feels so good. And you’re so beautiful like this, with my babies in your belly and the brands…” Anders trailed a few with his fingers and they tingled at the magic in them, sending sparks of arousal down Fenris’ spine.

“I worried what might happen to them as you grew, but either the brands are truly alive and a part of you or this is some magic of the statue’s, watching them grow with you has been a wonder to behold.”

Fenris felt himself actually blush at Anders’ words, though Anders was unlikely to see it in such low lighting.

“You have freckles,” Fenris gasped, the hand on his belly moving to trail in circles around the man’s belly button. “In the morning light they look like the night sky has left an echo of itself across your skin. It was hard to see before, but as you have grown, I notice it more and more. If I am a wonder, my love, you are a vision.”

At those words, Anders groaned and came splattering over Fenris’ stomach.

“Oh, the things you say,” Anders sighed, moving back again to finish preparing himself while Fenris reached over the side of the bed for a rag and quickly cleaned up before Anders finished his preparations. Eventually the mage was back in his lap however, slicking up his cock before lining himself up by feel and sliding down. To Anders, being filled while feeling the fluttering sensations from within was entirely beyond him; and he was only just able to take Fenris all the way in with his own cock trapped between their bellies. Such delicious friction, and the head of Fenris’ penis was right there, massaging his sweet spot, but he knew he had to move.

“You feel wonderful as always,” Anders sighed happily, hands unable to keep from wandering over Fenris’ belly again and again. Fenris groaned as Anders began to swivel his hips, belly undulating in the most mesmerizing fashion Fenris ever had the pleasure of witnessing, but it was that combined with the feel of sweet, tight heat that had him thrusting upwards, causing Anders to throw his head back and moan loudly with abandon.

A satisfied growl of pleasure rumbled through Fenris knowing that he’d caused that, that ever elusive loud moan that rarely graced their bed even after all these years. Anders was a normally quiet lover (a juxtaposition that had originally baffled Fenris the first few times they’d had sex) and every time Fenris managed to get him to be loud was a victory in and of itself.

“And you,” Fenris breathed, “ugh. For you, I have no more words. Just move, move… faster!”

Anders didn’t hesitate to give his lover what he asked for, flexing his thigh muscles with every swivel of his widening hips, sliding up just a little with every movement forward and then sliding down again with every rock back. Fenris thrust with abandon, throwing one arm across his forehead and closing his eyes so as to focus solely on the sounds and sensations of Anders’ harsh pants, the soft wet squelch and slap of skin hitting skin combined with the gentle drag of their bellies around the warm weight of Anders’ cock which was dribbling precum against Fenris’ belly from their frantic exertions.

“So close Fen, so close,” Anders whined. “P-Please, light your brands if you can?”

Fenris did, and suddenly the sensations were magnified almost immediately, flooring both men with the force of their orgasms as the room was flooded with Fade blue light for an instant before dying down. This left Anders clamping down on Fenris, milking his still twitching cock for all he was worth until finally the aftershocks faded and Anders gently extricated himself from Fenris to lie down next to him, bits of his skin still split with soft spiderwebs of blue lightning.

“Justice enjoy that too?” Fenris asked tiredly, cleaning himself up once more before climbing back under the sheets with Anders.

“Oh… yeah,” Anders breathed. “I mean, not in the same way I did… sex is weird to him. Icky bodily functions and all that, but he seems to understand why I like it. It’s mostly the lyrium he’s enamoured with… but I’ve told you that before.”

Fenris nodded, shifting over to his right side so that he could face Anders as he fell asleep.

“Mmm. Well, it was good… should sleep good tonight,” Fenris mumbled sleepily, to which Anders responded with a chuckle and a yawn. “Oh, definitely. Once the baby stops moving, I’m going to have a very good sleep tonight, hmm.”

But Fenris was already drifting off while he snuggled close, feeling warm and sated in Anders’ embrace, the call of the Fade quickly singing him off into a deep, restful sleep.

* * *

 Of course, their idyllic corner of the world would not remain as such forever… though the interruption of it was not as disastrous as Anders had feared.

A few more months down the road and both he and Fenris were about six months along. Fenris’ rate of growth had evened out some while Anders’ had increased, and because his baby seemed to be on the larger side and Fenris seemed to be carrying further back than Anders was, so they looked fairly close in size. However Fenris was still wider than Anders and tired more often, so he would usually stay downstairs after breakfast and help Anders with simple preparations for the clinic.

More people came by with things now, and the room they had set aside upstairs for the babies was shaping up quite nicely. They had three cradles, a changing table, several boxes of blankets and toys, even two rocking chairs that Gabriel, the town carpenter had built for them (“Every family gets at least one,” he’d said, “but you get two because I figured you’d both want one!”) and a bunch of other necessities.

“I hadn’t realized how many things children needed,” Fenris had said to him one morning when Landry had brought them the last of the altered shirts.

Anders, sensing Fenris’ worry, moved over to lean against the elf’s side and rubbed his back soothingly. “Well, we’re lucky to have so many people who care enough about us to help us acquire what we need. We’ll be just fine, my love.” He leaned over to nuzzle at the back side of the elf’s ear, an act he’d recently discovered seemed to really help Fenris relax. It had to have been an elf thing Anders thought, because it didn’t have quite the same effect on him, but he often did it anyway because he enjoyed seeing the normally tense elf go lax in his arms.

Predictably, Fenris melted against him and sighed happily against Anders’ solid warmth.

“I know it is not usually in my nature to take pleasure in being born an elf, but that has to be just about one of the best feelings in the world.” he said, unable to stop a purr of content from rumbling through him, filling the room.

Anders moved from his ear to his head to nuzzle at Fenris’ hair. The hand that had been rubbing his back moved to tighten the leather band that held Fenris’ hair together, the silvery white locks now reaching to mid shoulder blades since he’d decided to grow it out. Anders’ hair was longer too, but he kept it at shoulder length and only put it up when a particularly messy potion required it of him.

“It makes me feel good too,” Anders murmured. “No idea why, but I just can’t stop doing it.”

They remained like that for sometime before they started cleaning up breakfast to begin their day when a knock came at the door. Anders looked up and frowned; the townspeople rarely knocked if they had an appointment. He turned back to the runed kitchen sink and called over his shoulder, “Come in, door’s open!” while he quickly washed one of the ceramic bowls before turning back around to see who is was…

He gasped, the bowl falling from his fingers to clatter on the wooden floorboards, luckily not shattering but definitely getting water all around where he stood.

Fenris called out to him from the back where he’d gone to relieve himself as per his routine.

“Anders? Is everything alright?”

“I…” Anders stammered, finding himself unable to form words as he took in the sight before him. “I, um…”

There was a sound of a door closing as Fenris likely finished his business to return to help Anders clean up, when he caught sight of the person who’d entered and stopped dead in the doorway, hands reaching up reflexively to rest on his belly.

A woman stood before them, dark brown hair bound into two tight buns at the base of her neck, wearing a mage Warden uniform, an enchanted sword, as well as bearing the silver griffon of a Warden Commander on her left shoulder. She took in the scene before her with wide eyes, first having stopped to stare at Anders’ face, jaw slack, then almost comically glancing down at his swollen middle before taking in the sight of the white haired elf who was equally pregnant.

“Well…” she said at last. “So it is you.”

Anders nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Fenris moved close to him, clinging possessively to him, growling softly. “You cannot have him, or take him back to a Circle…” he rumbled, and Anders turned to soothe him.

“Fen, Fenris, it’s… I don’t think…” he began haltingly, “that’s... not what she is here for.”

The woman nodded slowly, eyes still drawn to their bellies as they flicked between them and Anders’ eyes.

“Yes. I… wow. That statue really works, doesn’t it?”

“You know about the statue?” Anders asked her, suddenly baffled. The woman nodded.

“After… After the Blackmarsh, I decided it would be a good idea to keep an eye on all the small towns in case they had any magical artefacts I needed to know about or any other dangerous things that needed monitoring… eventually this place came to my attention but I hadn’t thought much of it until I was told that it had a new healer. I’ve been… looking for a, a replacement for Vigil’s Keep for a long time.”

She took a few steps closer, and Anders felt Fenris tense, but Anders hushed him again, nuzzling behind his left ear this time. Fenris hissed softly, “Anders, don’t–”

“Fenris, I know this woman. This is…”

He looked up and over at the woman who was still standing very still, her face still in shock as though she were seeing a ghost come back to life.

“This is Rashia Amell, the Hero of Ferelden, Arlessa and Warden Commander of the Arling of Amaranthine, cousin to Hawke, and… she recruited me to the Wardens. Saved my life.”

“I had to,” she said, shaking her head. “We were in Kinloch Hold together. No way was I letting you go back there,” she finished bitterly. “You… Maker. Anders… damnit, what happened? Why did everyone think you were dead? What happened?” There were tears in her eyes now, and Anders could feel Fenris beside him start to sniffle in response.

“I…” Anders sighed, glancing down at Fenris. “We should invite her in to sit. There is no short explanation for this.”

Fenris, to his credit, relented at Anders’ request, though he still eyed the woman, Rashia, with some suspicion. She did not seem perturbed by this however and waited patiently while Anders cleaned up, poured some tea and set out some snacks, and eventually they were all settled in the downstairs room with the curtains drawn back so that clients might see that they were busy talking with a visitor.

“So.” Anders began with a deep sigh, “I suppose I shall begin with what happened when your replacement arrived. Because that’s when all the trouble started.”

“Of course,” she spat angrily, though it was obvious she was talking to herself or the memory of someone else. “I knew you would not run unless you thought you might be taken back to the Circle.” She groaned, threading her fingers through her hair, being careful not to tear it free of its bindings even in her frustration. “I knew you were uncomfortable with me leaving, so I thought that my safeguards were enough–!”

“I don’t think there was anything you could have done about this, Rashia,” Anders said quietly, and he told her about how Stroud had allowed a bunch of new recruits to join the Wardens without Seneschal Varel’s approval, some of whom had been “former” Templars who had known Ser Rylock and had likely been out to take revenge on the Warden Commander by attacking Anders with the intention of dragging him back to a Circle.

“But… those Wardens… I saw the reports,” she breathed, utterly flabbergasted. “There was a corpse wearing your clothing…! With your scarf!” She reached into her pack and brought out a faded yellow piece of fabric with gold and blue trim threading through it. Anders’ eyes widened, and the hand that wasn’t clasped to one of Fenris’ moved to touch it without thinking. Tears began to swim in his eyes.

“You… who kept this for you?”

“Nathaniel. To this day he won’t tell me why, but I’m glad he did.” She pulled the entire thing from her pack and let Anders take it so he could lift it to his nose and bury his face in it.

“I… Maker. There are so many memories…” Anders sobbed quietly. “I’m sorry, I need a moment,” he told her as he slowly rubbed a hand into his belly. Rashia glanced down again, but still refrained from asking about it. She nodded, waiting for him to finish. Eventually he sniffled, wiping his tears with the scarf and flashing her a weak smile.

“You’re not… not keeping Ser Pounce in that bag of yours are you?”

“Sadly, not. Nathaniel told me what they did, taking him away.” She shook her head and sighed deeply. “No, but Ser Pounce-a-lot is living his golden years with Nate’s sister, still running about and wreaking havoc, siring as many little Ser Pounces as he possibly can.” She smiled, chuckling. “Perhaps I shall find one of his kittens and bring them to you? It won’t… I’m not trying to replace him, but…”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rashia. Thank you. And perhaps… someday.”

They talked about what had happened to the Wardens, and Anders revealed to Rashia that the corpse they’d found had been Kristoff’s.

“Maker. You and Justice…”

Anders looked away. “I thought I knew what I was doing. Evidently I didn’t…”

He was afraid of continuing, but he made himself tell the story anyway; joining with Justice, his flight from Vigil’s Keep to Highever, where he hitched a ride in the storage hold of a ship, all the while still fighting for a balance with Justice and trying to keep his magic under control.

“But why go to Kirkwall?” she asked, dumbfounded. “Any mage knows that place is cursed. Hell, the people who live there will tell you as much.”

Anders merely shrugged and said, very quietly: “Karl. I went for Karl.”

“Oh,” was all she said in reply.

He told her about meeting Hawke, finding Karl had been made Tranquil, and everything that came after.

“I stayed because Justice had convinced me something needed doing about the situation in Kirkwall… and to keep your idiot cousin from dying in the Deep Roads.” She blinked at him in surprise. “You went down there… willingly? For some guy you’d just met?” Anders smiled sheepishly. “He was cute. And he said things that made me feel pretty. We also traveled for awhile until he had enough coin to buy a spot on the expedition as a partner. He wasn’t a stranger after all the nonsense we got up to.”

Rashia huffed. “You were always soft on the pretty ones.” She glanced over at Fenris. “So how did the two of you end up together and…” she glanced down again at their bellies. “...living here, of all places?”

“Funny story, that,” Anders laughed shakily, “we, ah… did not like each other when we first met.”

“In your defense, I did call you a viper,” said Fenris, speaking for the first time since they’d settled down to talk. “I had no excuse,” Anders replied. “I called you some pretty nasty things myself…”

“You were grieving for a lover.”

“But you didn’t know that then, and I didn’t really get around to telling you until long after you ended up in my clinic with a spider bite, delirious and mumbling about how you wanted to kiss me.” Rashia frowned. “The hell kind of spider bite was this?”

“Of the outrageously large kind,” Anders answered seriously. “They had nests everywhere around Kirkwall. You couldn’t throw a stone at a single cave in the surrounding area without hitting one, and all of them had some pretty nasty bites. But back to us… yeah. I was an ass, and I deserved every insult you gave, no matter my reasons.” He sighed, reaching for Fenris’ hand the moment he realized he’d released it. “But I didn’t account for you being secretly attracted to me…”

“Nor did I account for accidentally admitting that attraction to you under duress. But it happened, and it was quite possibly the best thing for us.”

Anders hummed appreciatively.

“Right. Astrid rejected both of us for Isabela and then all we had was each other. It still took us a long time to build an actual friendship of sorts before we ever even kissed for the first time.”

“That was after Justice almost killed that mage girl, wasn’t it?”

Rashia was just staring at them, glancing back and forth. “Wait, wait a minute. Isabela? As in, the pirate? And what’s this about Justice almost killing a girl?”

Anders sighed, and explained that yes, Isabela had been a pirate that had been one of her cousin’s motley crew of companions. She’d laughed, saying how much that their descriptions of the others they’d traveled with reminded her of the people she’d traveled with during the Blight, but then she got serious again when Anders started telling her about the underground mage movement he’d gotten involved in, trying to make changes happen for the mages living in the Gallows while trying not to become one himself.

“I had your cousin’s protection, for a time,” Anders sighed, “but after Justice almost killed that girl that Alrik had been interrogating I wasn’t sure Astrid would give me the time of day. Fenris, though…” He sighed softly and glanced over at the elf, who’d begun toying with his hair while Anders had been speaking. “Fenris made a promise that I wasn’t so certain he would keep… but it was comforting to hear for a while.”

“What was the promise?” she asked.

“That I would stay by his side no matter what happened to us.” Fenris spoke up. “To be honest, I wasn’t so certain myself at the time if I had the courage to keep it, but then you helped me kill my former master, and I knew that I had to. If you loved me enough to help me end his life, then I could perhaps put my fear aside for you.”

Rashia suddenly sat up and stared at Fenris like she’d just figured out something that had been troubling her for a long time.

“That’s where I’ve heard that accent before,” she breathed, then swore, “fucking slavers.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Anders said, “You killed some Tevinter mages in the Denerim alienage, right? I remember you yelling at me when you recognized a chink in the robe I was wearing that you apparently inflicted when you killed the one who’d been wearing it.” Anders made a face. “I never felt so unclean in my life.” He shuddered.

Fenris gave Rashia an assessing glance, eventually nodding slightly and settling back in his chair, suddenly more relaxed than before.

“I see now why Anders spoke of you so highly. I… apologize for my earlier actions.”

Rashia merely shrugged and smiled at him. “It is understandable, knowing where you come from. Even were I not a mage, I suspect that trusting others does not come easy to you.” She huffed amusedly, surveying the pair of them. “It is both easy and difficult to see how the two of you came to be as close as you are…”

She sighed contentedly before becoming serious again.

“But… how did you come to leave Kirkwall? Was it during… whatever happened there? I’ve been, um, travelling these past few years, but even I know something big happened in Kirkwall that’s the reason for the unrest in the Circles.”

Anders and Fenris exchanged a look, and Anders shifted uneasily.

“I… I spent the better part of a decade in that city trying to enact peaceful change,” Anders said quietly. “Eventually… Justice grew impatient and suggested that we try force. Strike at the heart of the problem.”

“Which was…?” Rashia asked, trailing off.

Anders stared at her, blinking owlishly. “You… really don’t know?” She shook her head. “I said that I’ve been travelling. Mostly back and forth between Soldier’s Peak and Vigil’s Keep ever since I left Weisshaupt.”

Anders sighed, putting his head in his hands and staring at the floor intently.

“I blew up a Chantry, Rashia.”

Silence. And then, “...I see. I mean, I know you’ve never been all that fond of Chantries, but was there a goal to blowing up this one?” Anders looked up, feeling very surprised. “You’re not… you should be angry. I blew up a Chantry!” Rashia nodded slowly. “Yes, so you’ve said. But you haven’t told me why. And don’t giving me that poetic nonsense. Tell me why.”

Fenris chuckled. “You don’t avoid the issue, do you?”

“No,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “I killed Arl Howe and Loghain for commiserating and conspiring to sell the elves of the alienage into slavery; I don’t have the patience for such things.” She fixed her gaze on Anders. “Well?”

Anders hesitated a moment before replying, very quietly, “Because the grand cleric was inside. I tried to reason with her so many times, knowing that she was the real power in that city and was the only one who could make any change happen, but… she just… wouldn’t listen.”

Rashia uncrossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, nodding slowly.

“You… have far greater patience than I, Anders. And from what I heard, the number of deaths was not as great as their significance. It was mostly the city itself that bore the brunt of the destruction, and mostly only that occurred in Hightown… however did you manage that?”

“Um. What?”

“Did you use force spells to contain most of the blast? And what the hell did you use to create an explosion of that magnitude? No pure magic I know can do the things I heard whispered about the last time I cared to listen…” She looked up, and upon noticing Anders’ shocked expression and Fenris’ curious stare, she coughed and smiled sheepishly. “Why do I get the feeling these are not the questions you were anticipating?”

“I’ve got to be honest,” Anders muttered, his face pinching a little in confusion, “I expected more… fury?”

“Why? It sounds like something I might’ve done, although I have much less finesse when it comes to displays of grandeur.” She huffed, and a chuckle rumbled from her lips. “I believe you when you say that you tried every peaceful solution you could think of before resorting to violence. And I must commend you for having the balls to… um, what’s the expression? Go big or go home? I’ve never really understood that one, but it seems fitting. I might’ve done a bunch of really stupid little things before outright killing a grand cleric.”

“Oh, I did those stupid things. Trust me, I did a lot of stupid things. It’s kind of the story of my life.” Rashia snorted. “Join the club. My trek across Ferelden trying to assemble an army to fight the Darkspawn horde involved a long string of stupid decisions. I mean, Denerim ended up in flames by the end of it, so… yeah.”

“I still worry about whatever this is that I have started,” Anders sighed, unable to keep the distress from his voice. “I mean, I worried even after Fenris and I left after Meredith was dead and there was chaos enough to slip away unnoticed. I worried that we would always be on the run, always looking over our shoulders… and then we came to this place.”

He looked down, and at last acknowledged the thing they had avoided speaking of until now.

“This place… this town. It has given me – us – more than I could have ever asked for. More than I believed, and still sometimes believe… these babies… Maker. This entire experience is so strange and bizarre and sometimes I wonder if this is really happening and then – oh!”

His hands flew to his belly, fingers automatically smoothing out the wrinkles of the still slightly larger than needed shirt, emphasizing the roundness of it. Rashia watched, perched on the edge of her chair, eyes wide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, and Anders nodded, sniffling.

“Yeah. It’s just shifting… ugh, these mood swings are hell.”

Rashia laughed softly. “Well, it’s nice to know that should Alistair and I ever get the chance to see each other again and want to have kids… we should come here. That statue really does work miracles, doesn’t it?” Then she glanced at Fenris. “On… the both of you, it seems.”

Fenris grunted. “We just wanted to spend a night under the stars and I was merely indulging this one’s strange sexual fixation with statues of Andraste.”

Rashia snorted, descending into a bout of laughter until she managed to curb it long enough to wheeze, “Ha! I knew you had a thing for that one statue in front of the Amaranthine Chantry... but, really… they turn you on? That’s… huh.” Her shoulders shook with more silent laughter as she shook her head, lips stretched in a wide grin.

“So, you were sort of caught unawares and you still decided to keep them?” she asked them seriously, once her fit of laughter had abated.

Anders nodded, hands still pressed against his belly protectively.

“I didn’t realize how much I wanted children until this, and I was willing to go through with a pregnancy myself if that’s what it took.” He sighed, and added in a more subdued tone, “And now my greatest fear is that what I started will catch up to me and leave these babies parentless.”

“Anders,” Fenris grumbled, reaching out and placing a hand on one of Anders’, “that is not going to happen.”

“But it might!” Anders fretted, exasperated, until Rashia stood up from her chair and knelt next to Anders, her hands hovering over his belly. He glanced down at her, breath catching in his throat as she asked to touch, and all he could do was nod as tears gathered in his eyes. His hands joined hers, bringing them to rest over where he could feel the baby still shifting, hearing her soft gasp of amazement.

“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s… wow. Maker, I… that’s, there’s really a baby in there.”

“Yeah,” Anders whispered back. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a little while until Rashia looked up at Anders and told him in a low voice, very seriously, “Anders. Come what may, you, all of you… should anything threaten your safety, know that there is always a place for you in Vigil’s Keep. I cannot make a promise that I can keep you safe, because I tried that once and I failed to do so, but… I, I can offer you a place at the Keep, should you want it. Or need it.”

Anders nodded very slightly until he suddenly went still, his breath leaving him in a rush.

“Anders?”

“Ah, Rashia, I need you to move. I need to, um. I need to excuse myself for just a moment.”

The meaning of his words suddenly dawning on her, Rashia moved out of the way and stood, watching him half waddle, half run out of the room and towards (or so she hoped) a chamberpot.

It was mildly amusing, and Fenris thought so as well it seemed for they shared a secret smile and he held a finger to his lips. “I won’t tell him you laughed if you don’t.” She snickered. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Fenris nodded, and relaxed a bit more as he motioned for her to come close.

“Figured you might as well get a chance with these two. It’s only fair, I suppose.” Rashia raised an eyebrow as she knelt again, letting Fenris take her hands to feel the movement within.

“...two? You’re having twins?”

“Apparently. We were told it happens on occasion.”

Rashia stared at her hands, still amazed at which she was feeling. “It’s… still amazing, feeling this. Does it feel strange to you?”

“I’m a male elf who’s pregnant with twins. That entire sentence is strange.”

“Huh. Good point.”

“Still… I came very close to giving them up before I even knew there were two. I don’t quite remember what it was that changed my mind… a dream, I think, but every day since I haven’t felt a moment’s regret. Sometimes I worry that I won’t be a good parent because of what I was trained to do as a slave… but Anders helps. I feel I cannot always help him in return… so I thank you sincerely for your offer of safety, regardless of whether or not you think you are actually offering that. I hope it brings him that little more peace of mind that I cannot give…”

Fenris sighed, and Rashia nodded solemnly as she stood.

“I do not make promises I cannot keep,” she told him, “and as it seems that you are of a similar mind on this, I’ll tell you now that I will not lie and say I can guarantee your safety and the safety of your children. However, I can offer you a possible way to help make yourselves safe in the event that what small peace you have found here is disrupted. It is the least I can do to make up for my previous failures.”

Fenris chuckled, and Rashia raised another curious eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Huh. Well, whether or not it was an actual failing of yours is debatable in my opinion, seeing as it allowed me to meet and eventually conceive these children with the man. For as much pain and suffering that it brought him, I think that these children will bring him great joy in the end.”

Rashia smiled a little. “So do I.” Then she frowned, as though remembering something that disturbed her, but before Fenris could ask her about it, Anders returned, looking refreshed.

“Oh, you seem to be getting along well,” he chattered happily. “I realized that leaving you alone might not have been the best idea but I really had to–”

“Anders,” Rashia interrupted him, grasping him by his shoulders, holding him firmly in front of her. “What?” Anders asked, seeing something in her expression that Fenris didn’t. “What’s wrong?” Her frown deepened, and she put one hand square in the center of his chest, looking up at him briefly. “Hold still a moment? I need to check something.”

That something seemed to dawn on Anders as Rashia closed her eyes and her hand glowed softly with magical energy. As the spell dissipated, Anders asked her in a quivering voice, “Rashia? How bad is it?” but then he noticed the baffled shock on her face and blinked at her owlishly. “Rashia?”

“...that’s impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head to clear it. “Um. Anders. Your… the… how, how long has it been since your joining? Around ten years?”

“More than, I think,” Anders answered her. “What is it, Rashia? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” she said, but then corrected herself with, “Well, almost nothing. The corruption of your joining is still in you, but… it’s like it hasn’t progressed in a very long time. It’s like… like it’s halted, somehow.”

Fenris, seemingly tired of being left out of the conversation, stood next to Anders.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means that I’ll never have to go on my calling,” Anders mused wonderingly. “Without the spread of the Blight’s corruption in my system, I…” Tears sprung to his eyes again and this time he couldn’t stop them from falling as he turned to Fenris and whispered, “I had forgotten about it until now… but now it doesn’t matter because I can grow old with you, watch our children have children, even, if we live that long.”

Rashia was still baffled, but she was smiling.

“I… don’t understand why, but I know what I sensed. Something is merely keeping the corruption from spreading, though I can’t fathom the reason.”

Anders frowned, and he cocked his head to one side as though listening to something only he could hear. “I… I think Justice might be the reason? It’s… hard to say because I can’t… I can’t hear him speak, exactly, but… I think that Justice thinks that my being host to him might be the reason.” Rashia’s half smile turned into a full one as she huffed a little bark of laughter.

“Justice… Maker, you’re still the fighter I knew you to be. Someday, you and I will have to have a proper conversation, but…” And here she bowed her head to the two men with a soft sigh. “I think I have imposed on you for long enough. I will be back, though. I have to, so I can see these little ones after they’re born.” Her smile became a grin as she reached out to both of them to give their bellies one last pat.

“You aren’t imposing,” Anders insisted, but Rashia shook her head.

“Yes I am. You both look done in and all we’ve been doing is talking. Go and rest. Spirit Healer’s orders. Justice, be a dear and nag him to go rest for a bit, won’t you?”

Anders groaned. “Please don’t tell him that; he might actually listen to you, and I still have potions to brew…” She shrugged. “Well then, show me which ones and I’ll do them for you so you can go nap. I mean it.” Then she suddenly fixed Fenris with a fierce stare that actually caught him off guard. “You too. And I’m making lunch. Then I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

Both men nodded and watched as she hustled out of the room, was gone for a moment, and then stuck her head around the corner to say to Anders, “Are you coming? I want to see those potions you need to make,” before she disappeared again.

Fenris glanced at Anders.

“That woman is a terror,” he said. “I mean, I like her, but…”

“You should see her fight. She’s got this thing she can do with her magic so she’s able to carry that greatsword around like it’s a toothpick; she tried to teach me once but I was never quite able to grasp it–”

“Anders…” Came Rashia’s voice from around the door.

Anders gave a little start. “Um, coming!” He glanced over at Fenris and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, mom wants me to come home. I’ll come by and play later?”

Fenris sighed and shook his head. “Just go before she yells at you again.”

Anders just grinned at him and Fenris followed so that he could go back upstairs and continue reading the new book he’d just started in on, though Rashia had been right that just talking had taken a lot out of him, and he wasn’t certain he’d be reading for very long… and he was right. When Anders came upstairs to join him for a rest, he found Fenris lying above the covers on his side, sleeping soundly with his book still open next to him.

Anders smiled a little at his sleeping partner, picked up the book to mark the spot, and set it aside before he settled in next to him and was asleep not long after that.

* * *

  
In the weeks that followed the Warden Commander’s visit, Anders’ spirits lifted considerably. He smiled more, worried less, and he often hummed lullabies from his childhood while he worked or chatted happily with Grizelda whenever she came by to check up on the two of them.

“You still doing those exercises I recommended? The ones with the quarterstaff?” she nagged as she gently prodded and poked at him one evening six weeks later. Anders was lying on one of the clinic beds while Fenris, who had already been examined, sat in a nearby chair to watch. Lying propped up on his back with his shirt pushed up to just below his breasts really emphasized the heavy roundness of his belly, but Anders seemed to enjoy the attention.

He nodded in response to her question.

“Yeah. They’ve really helped with that restlessness I’ve started feeling recently,” he told her as she felt around for the positioning of the baby. She nodded approvingly. “You’re both approaching your last month, so nesting might be settling in for you. Try not to tire yourself out with cleaning though, you’ll need that energy for the birth.”

She glanced up at Fenris. “You in particular should take things as easily as you can. I’ve seen some mothers make it to full term with two before, but that’s usually because they took my advice and stayed put when I told them to.”

Fenris nodded seriously. “I want to make it to full term if I can as well,” he told her. “The most movement I do most days are those morning and evening stretches and the stairs, and even then sometimes I don’t even do that.” He reached over and threaded his fingers through Anders’ hair, the mage humming contentedly as he did so. Grizelda nodded, and seemingly satisfied with her examination of Anders, pulled his shirt back down.

“You seem to be doing well, but you would know better than I how healthy the babies are internally,” she said to Anders as he sat up, swung his legs over the side, and stood to tuck his shirt back underneath his trousers as much as was possible these days. “They seem to be progressing quite well,” Anders replied cheerily, “though I do worry that this one hasn’t turned in a while.” He glanced down, but Grizelda waved him off. “If worst comes to worst, I’ve delivered feet first ones before. But you’ve, what? Another six weeks left? He’ll turn.”

Anders frowned. “I… I disagree about that, actually.”

“What? That the baby will turn?”

“No,” Anders mused thoughtfully. “I just think this one’s a girl. And yes, I have a spell that could tell us, but we decided we wanted to be surprised.” Grizelda just smiled at him knowingly. “So, have you been discussing names?”

“We have two boys names,” Fenris answered, Anders helping him to stand. “Leto and Karl. But we’re having trouble deciding on girls…” Anders shrugged. “There are also names that can be either. I am quite fond of Hayden.”

“Well, I’m sure whatever you decide, it’ll be lovely. I must be off, though. Brother Jerrell complains whenever I’m gone too long and I fear one of these days I may permanently injure the man the next time I whack him with my spoon.” Anders chuckled. “Not with me around. I’m sure he’ll be fine. You have a good evening, though. Thank you for stopping by.”

“Just doing my job. You boys take care.”

And with that, she was outside just as quickly as she’d come, and Anders turned to Fenris.

“Are you hungry yet? I kind of need go out and exercise for a bit. Staying still for that long made me restless again and I need to work out that excess energy.” Fenris shook his head. “Not yet. In fact, did that bench ever get brought by? I wouldn’t mind moving outside to watch you go through your forms in this… form.” His eyes raked up and down Anders’ body, and Anders felt himself shiver under Fenris’ heated gaze.

“Um, yes,” he stammered, “Gabriel and Landry brought it over yesterday while you were down for your nap. They assured me that it’s been well tested in terms of its sturdiness. They even put up a trellis awning up so that I can start growing Arbor Blessing and Rashvine come next spring.” He threaded an arm around one of Fenris’ and they walked out together, the back door leading out to where Anders’ herb and a vegetable gardens were beginning to bear the fruit of last year’s efforts. Beyond that lay more fields and then the edge line of the forest, but between the house and the gardens was a smooth patch of dirt and sparse grass that had recently seen use; probably from Anders’ exercises yesterday evening.

“This was rather thoughtful of them,” Fenris commented idly as he sat on the bench that had been placed right next to the door. A few blankets had been placed on the back and seats, making the bench quite comfortable, and not once did it creak under Fenris’ weight as their last one had. Anders nodded, grabbing one of the quarterstaves lacking a blade and moving out to the center of the dirt patch.

“It was indeed,” he huffed, beginning his warm up stretches. “Now you can enjoy a nice nap in the shade if you want.”

Fenris chuffed. “Why would I, when I have such a captivating performance unfolding before me? It would be a crime to sleep through such a thing.”

Anders’ face flushed, but he simply rolled his eyes and shook his head dismissively.

“You flatter me unnecessarily. It’s just staff exercises; nothing special.”

Fenris chuckled, leaning back as Anders moved almost fluidly from his warm ups into his exercises. “To me, it is like watching you dance. Do you remember the first time I caught you doing these back in Kirkwall?” Anders laughed breathlessly, taking great care to keep his steps measured and his breathing even.

“I do. You had caught a bad cold and had been spending several days in my bed after Astrid had dragged you there. He’d went to fetch you for a trip to the Bone Pit hadn’t he? Found you delirious with fever and brought you to me because he knew we’d become friendlier with one another… somehow.”

“Right. It was the morning after my fever had broken and I got up to find you when I realized where I was… and there you were. Wearing nothing but your boots and a pair of trousers and twirling your staff about your clinic as though it were a dance.”

“I don’t even remember why I was practicing those forms again. Must’ve been feeling nostalgic.”

“For what?” Fenris prodded curiously. Anders picked up his pace a little, but only just. Even with his shifted center of gravity, the mage moved with all the grace of the cats he so adored, and it was still as mesmerizing to watch as it had been that first time in his clinic.

“My Warden days,” Anders answered him. “The routine of it. After we’d dealt with the Mother and her Children but before Rashia had been called away to Weisshaupt, those of us who weren’t out on patrol would get up before dawn and have a quick meal, then do forms, spar, rest, and repeat. I must have gotten up out of habit and didn’t know what else to do, especially if it was one of the rare occasions when my store of potions were stocked and I was out of candles to light or oil to burn to do more editing on my manifesto.”

“Either way,” Fenris breathed, his breath suddenly stolen from him as Anders moved into a low sweeping motion that sent a spark of arousal down his spine, “I found it… strangely captivating. I still do.” He panted, shifting a little as he tried to get comfortable again despite his belly putting pressure on his twitching cock through his trousers. “You… you don’t know how beautiful you are when you’re like this?”

Anders hummed in response, and Fenris realized that the mage had slipped into the curious meditative state he’d only observed once or twice before.

“You’re beautiful too, Fen,” he heard Anders whisper as he moved through the sweeping motion into a spin, planting his feet firmly into the dirt to focus solely on working through the motions of his upper body. “Even though your brands are dormant and you’re sitting several feet away, when I do this… I can almost hear the song that Justice once spoke of, about how the lyrium echoes the song of the Fade. Despite the pain and darkness that they brought you, you are free of those things now. There is… a beauty in their form, their song. A kind of harmony with your very being that is both a strange and wonderful thing to behold.”

Fenris shivered, feeling his cheeks flood with heat at Anders’ words.

Either Anders hadn’t noticed his reaction or this was one of the few times that the mage was able to find solace in silence. For after saying this, he remained silent as he continued to move through his forms and Fenris watched in amazement at how limber Anders remained, even with his belly as heavy and round as it was.

Eventually, Anders finished his exercises and appeared to come back to the world around him. The first thing he did was turn to Fenris and flash him a boyish grin, and strangely this set Fenris’ heart fluttering as though he were seeing it for the first time.

“Are you alright?” Anders asked him as he put away the staff and helped Fenris to stand.

“Ah, yes,” Fenris finally managed, “I just… well. Watching you dance has put all the blood in the wrong head, I’m afraid. It’s made me a little lightheaded and your beauty is just so, so blinding.”

Anders chuckled. “Well, let’s feed the babies first and then we’ll see what we can do about… the other problem, hmm?” The mage bent down to nuzzle behind one ear, all at once calming Fenris and at the same time making him slightly more aroused. He panted heavily, “Not… not helping, Anders.” He turned his head to capture Anders’ lips in a bruising kiss, dragging a little at the bottom one with his teeth between pulling away. Anders groaned, and his amber eyes flashed when Fenris caught his gaze.

“Now… now who isn’t helping?” Anders laughed, voice low and sultry. “Really though, we should eat. Because if we go upstairs now there no way we’re coming back before morning.”

Fenris nodded. “I don’t need anything fancy. Though… perhaps something with a little spice?”

Anders licked his lips. “We still have a little of that Antivan sausage… I could fry some up with some rice and beans, with just a pinch of pepper…”

“Alright, now I’m hungry,” Fenris groused, struggling to get onto one of their usual stools. Anders glanced back and moved to help him up. “You should be careful getting up on these,” he fretted. “You might lose your balance and hurt something.” Fenris glanced down, suddenly worried as he wrapped his arms around his belly. “...or someone,” he said very quietly. Anders sighed, and bent to nuzzle at the crown of Fenris’ hair.

“It’s alright. Everything’s just fine right now. I merely meant to ask you to be cautious, not to make you worry.”

Fenris sighed contentedly against Anders’ solid warmth.

“I… yes. Thank you for that reminder. I shall keep it in mind.”

Anders pressed another quick kiss to his hair before turning back to the frying pan to finish putting their dinner together. He used a little bit of magic to help the process along, and soon they were eating side by side. Anders had had a bit of difficulty with his own stool, and after he’d finally managed to get on it he turned and murmured to Fenris that they should probably eat in the other room for a while; at least until after the babies were born.

But soon the food was consumed and their closeness turned from comfortably warm to achingly hot, and after washing up the two men made their way to their bedroom where Fenris paused at the foot of the bed, looking back at Anders.

“How… how are we going to do this?” he asked, frowning. “We’re much too big for face to face sex, though perhaps we could… suck each other off?” He rubbed his belly as Anders closed the door behind them and turned to approach the elf. “I was thinking about that fantasy we had, back before this all started…” Their bellies pressed together, causing Fenris’ entire body to flash with heat. He remembered that fantasy.

“On my knees, with you behind me?”

“If it bothers you, we don’t have to do it,” Anders said seriously, though it was difficult now to register such nuances in the man’s voice when all Fenris’ other brain seemed to want was sex.

“I think,” he breathed, half huffing, half gasping for air, “I think I won’t mind it if you’re vocal.” Anders chuckled, and leaned forward as much as he could to press a kiss to the tip of Fenris’ nose. “I can do that,” he promised, grinning. “But the moment you’re uncomfortable with the situation, just say our word and we can just lend each other a hand or two with our problems for the rest of the night? Maybe even a mouth?”

Fenris groaned. “We… we are wearing entirely too many clothes for this.”

“I thought you’d never mention it,” Anders growled, and sooner than he could blink Anders had their shirts untucked and tossed to the floor, the bare skin of their bellies now rubbing together as their activities seemed to have gained the attention of their little ones. The two of them shared a glance, and Anders pressed his lips to Fenris’ belly as he knelt to remove his trousers, matching a fluttering kiss for each fluttering kick.

“They’re very active this evening,” Anders murmured, standing up and undoing his own trousers so that Fenris didn’t have to bend down. “They just want some exercise too,” Fenris replied in a similarly husky rumble.

Hands wandered everywhere as the two men slowly fell sideways onto the bed, doing their best not to let their bellies jostle too much as they wiggled up to the headboard. Fenris groaned when a hand managed its way under his belly to stroke his cock and Anders’ lips caught his in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Maker,” Anders breathed, “I can’t get enough of you. Want to keep kissing, but… need… air…”

Fenris laughed, and his hands found Anders’ chest as he thumbed gently at the erect nipples. Anders threw his head back and his hips jerked forward, but he whined when the only friction he could find was the rubbing of their bellies.

“Should we move onto the fucking?” He asked, shuddering as he moved his legs to try to relieve some of his frustrations, his toes curling in his impatience. “Or would you rather just keep teasing me like this–ow! Ah, careful, I’m really sensitive there.” Fenris murmured an apology and shifted so that he could lick at Anders’ nipples, gently sucking at them and nibbling the swollen, puffy flesh with care. His own breast muscles were starting to swell noticeably too, likely in preparation for feeding the babies after their birth. Eventually he pulled away to look at Anders’ face, the mage’s expression an exquisite mixture of frustration and blissful rapture.

“I would not call it as such,” he whispered, and Anders opened his eyes to glance back to meet his gaze. “No,” Anders whispered back, “I suppose it hasn’t been that for us in a very long time.”

“Prepare me?” Fenris asked, and Anders leaned forward to press a kiss between the three dots of lyrium on his forehead. “Of course, my love. Because you ask so nicely. Turn over for me please?” Fenris nodded and hummed appreciatively. “May I use my slick spell?” He heard Anders ask, and Fenris nodded. “So considerate.”

“Consent is important,” Anders panted, and Fenris’ brands flashed as he felt Anders pull on the Fade’s energies, followed by a warm, wet digit prodding at his entrance. Anders angled his body so that he could press his upper body against Fenris’ back, using their pillows to prop himself up comfortably enough to keep a running commentary in his ear.

“I hope this is never uncomfortable for you,” Anders murmured. “Not like that first time you tried to take me before you were ready. At the time I’d thought you were just impatient, but…”

“I wasn’t. I felt that you were drawing it out on purpose, which you were…”

“This was back when we were “fucking.” You didn’t know that I like drawing things out,” he said as he finished his teasing and pressed a finger in, quickly proceeding to follow with a second, “because sex had always been a means to an end, a way to pretend that I was loved, even for just a little while.”

“You’re loved now,” Fenris insisted, very quietly, and behind him he heard Anders’ breath catch.

Then, as Anders was adding a third finger, curling them in just the right spot to make Fenris shout out in pleasure, he moved to press his lips and suck at the juncture where the elf’s neck met his shoulder. Anders continued to stimulate his sweet spot with just his fingers for a little while as Fenris also felt the sweet drag of Anders’ teeth pressing into his skin, and he knew that there was most definitely going to be a mark there later.

Ander removed his fingers after his lips left Fenris’ neck with a soft “pop”, his nose nuzzling once more behind the elf’s left ear, teeth grazing the tip.

As Fenris gasped and shivered through the sparks of arousal that shot through him, he heard Anders whisper, “And so are you, darling. I love you so very much, sometimes I feel I cannot contain it. I don’t want to contain it.” There was a soft sigh of wistful contentment before Anders shifted, using the excess slick on himself before running a hand down Fenris’ side, stopping at his ass, fingers pressing possessively into the flesh.

“Think you can get on your hands and knees, love? Are you ready?”

“More than,” Fenris hissed, and he rolled into a sitting position on his haunches before leaning forward and pressing his forearms against the mattress, face half buried in the pillows, ass up in the air as his belly dragged the ground and rubbed against the soft fabric of the sheets. “Alright, I think I’m ready,” he said, though the sound was muffled slightly as it bounced against the headboard. Anders shifted behind him, and his heart began to beat faster as he felt the head of Anders’ cock press against his entrance.

“Fen, sweetheart,” Anders told him gently, “you’re tensing. Relax. We can always do something else. Anything else. Tell me what you what, love.”

Anders moved to rest his belly against the small of Fenris’ back, and suddenly the feeling of that weight there helped ground Fenris in the present. The tension in his muscles faded, and he could also feel Anders’ cock brushing against his balls as the mage’s hands gently massaged the muscles of his ass.

“It’s just… this position,” he finally replied, turning his head back slightly so Ander could hear.

“You seem more relaxed,” Anders observed. “Want to try again?”

Fenris nodded, and then added just in case Anders hadn’t seen, said, “Yes. I trust you.”

Anders’ hands moved from his ass to run up and down his sides, fingers trailing the motion of the brands almost lovingly, the lyrium glowing and pulsing softly with each stroke. “Alright, then. I’m lining up now. Stay just like that, yes… you’re so lovely, Fen. So beautiful…”

Fenris almost didn’t register the head of Anders’ cock pushing through until Anders gave a little jerk and thrust in fully, the round heaviness of his belly resting against his back again. This time Fenris could feel Anders inside him, the babies shifting in his own belly that brushed against the bedsheets, and he swore he could feel the kicks from Anders’ belly against his back too. He gasped, and Anders grunted.

“You still okay?”

“Yeah… it’s just… the babies. I can feel them moving… in me, you. You inside me. I don’t… don’t know how to–ohhh, please move. Move now.”

Anders had shifted, did something, and Fenris dug his knees into the mattress and pressed back, hoping Anders would take the hint.

He did.

The angle wasn’t what they were used to.

But they made it work.

Even though Anders couldn’t thrust as forcefully as they were used to, it was strangely more stimulating, not less. The intimacy of it too, did something to Fenris that made him cry out with each of Anders’ thrusts, and Anders was being unusually vocal as well. Fenris didn’t know if it was for his benefit or not, but his voice alone was almost enough to send him over the edge.

This. This was the fantasy they had shared that evening in the clearing. Both of them, swollen with child, in the middle of the very act that had created those children in the first place.

Fenris panted, groaning into the pillow as he shifted his knees a little, Anders adjusting to compensate and wham. Anders was right against that spot inside that made him see stars, shouting, “There! Fasta vass, there! Anders! Oh, Anders…”

Fenris chanted Anders’ name like it was a prayer, and he could feel his balls tightening, approaching that climax, and Anders’ hands grasped the globes of his ass to give him just a little more leverage with his thrusts as that peak climbed higher, and higher, and–

“Anders!” “Fenris!”

They came together, Fenris, untouched, Anders, rocking into Fenris until he stilled, his hips giving tiny, halting thrusts as he rode through what Fenris assumed was a second orgasm shortly after. Fenris was content to dig in his elbows and knees and let his Grey Warden take the release he needed, until he gasped in actual surprise when his brands flared with light and he came untouched a second time.

Anders groaned, shuddering with aftershocks as he pulled out carefully when the high from their orgasms had subsided somewhat. Fenris’ ass dribbled a bit from however many times Anders had come, and then it was his turn to shiver as Anders asked him to hold his position for a little while longer and he ate out some of his own cum from Fenris’ ass before letting Fenris gently flop over on one side, Anders tugging off the soiled sheet before allowing the elf to collapse.

“Wow,” Fenris huffed when Anders finally came back to bed. It had been sunset when they’d come up here, but now the sky was dark, the only light cast by the half moon and the twinkling of stars. “Yeah,” Anders agreed, sliding under the covers next to Fenris, sighing with relief and satisfaction. “That was… wow.”

The two men were on their sides, facing each other, both of them with one hand on their bellies while the others were close to their heads, fingers interlaced with one another.

“We are going to be so tired tomorrow,” Fenris mumbled as sleep began to claim him.

Anders chuckled softly. “So we’ll sleep in. Maybe spend most of the day in bed. I’m sure people will understand; I mean, the whole town probably heard us.”

“We were rather loud, weren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Anders agreed. “But Maker, if I could make love to you like that every time? It would be so worth it.” Fenris’ answering chuckle was barely a sound as he nuzzled into their pillows. “It certainly would,” he sighed happily, and afterwards was asleep in moments.

* * *

  
Whether or not the town had heard didn’t bother them in the slightest as they enjoyed their remaining time as a couple as frequently as possible. Sometimes it was in the morning, sometimes the evening. Sometimes both.

They didn’t always have the energy or desire to replicate such an intense experience as they had enjoyed that particular evening, but certainly they enjoyed themselves often enough. Once, Fenris had wondered if they could replicate that same position, but on their sides, and they had indeed managed it, with Anders do the receiving that time. It had been just as intense, if not more so since they had even less thrusting power that way, but taking things slowly seemed to be the theme of their lives now and they embraced it wholeheartedly.

Because those six weeks had to come to an end eventually.

Well, seven.

Their babies (even Fenris’ who had been more at risk of being born early by virtue of merely carrying twins) seemed that they weren’t in a rush to be born. Anders tried adding more spices to their food, having sex at least twice a day…

Fenris had been concerned one morning about what would happen if things went on too long.

“I have… a potion,” Anders admitted. “Grizelda probably has a similar recipe. I’ll start brewing some tomorrow, so if labor doesn’t start by next week, we can induce it that way.” He smiled weakly and rubbed his belly, which was quite large indeed. Their babies had finally dropped, yet even then Anders’ belly was still slightly dwarfed by Fenris’. He was still looking decidedly uncomfortable, though Fenris was downright miserable when he wasn’t hungry, horny, or making one of his frequent visits to the washroom.

However, it turned out they didn’t need the potion after all.

Fenris jolted awake from his nap, unsure of what had woken him. Slowly, he sat up, and found that he was tense all over. Anders was still asleep beside him, and when he looked up, the sun was a little past halfway set behind the treetops.

He shook Anders awake, hissing his name. “Anders. Anders!”

“Hmm? What… what? Fenris?”

Anders sat up too, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and Fenris was waiting anxiously for the man to finish waking up before he bothered him any further, until…

“Urk!”

Pain lanced across his middle, and he bent double, clutching his stomach. “Ah! Anders!” He panted harshly as the pain faded, but as he leaned back against the headboard, a thrill of fear lanced through him and he began to shake.

Anders was awake and out of bed instantly, coming around to Fenris’ side and leaning over to nuzzle behind his ear again, whispering, “It’s alright, Fen. You might be in labor, so we need to get you downstairs and I need to have one of our neighbors fetch Grizelda. It’s going to be okay, I promise.” Fenris nodded as that nuzzle relaxed him a little, though he still felt warm and tense.

“Try to relax,” Anders advised. “I’ll freeze some water and cut them into chips so you can suck on them. That used to help some of the new mothers in my clinic. This is going to take a while, so save your strength for pushing. You’re going to need it.”

He kept up this running commentary until he had Fenris downstairs on one of the clinic beds, dressed in one of the special nightgowns that Grizelda had given them on one of her last visits.

“You won’t be gone long?” Fenris asked as Anders put on his slippers to go outside.

“Not at all. I’m just going to send for Grizelda and perhaps Sora, if she’s back from her trip yet. I promise, I’ll just be a moment.” Anders was out and back in as quickly as possible, and while they waited for Grizelda to arrive, Anders kept count of how far apart Fenris’ contractions were.

Grizelda arrived closer to an hour later, while Anders was checking Fenris’ progression.

“Definitely labor, then?” She asked, bringing Brother Jerrell of all people in tow. Anders nodded, glancing at Brother Jerrell. “Sora still not back?” The man shook his head. “No, but Zelda needs an assistant who isn’t pregnant,” –here the old man fixed Anders with a hard stare– “so she brought me. You just sit tight and look after your partner, got it?”

Anders nodded quickly; he wasn’t going to argue with that.

However, as Fenris was beginning to approach a safe dilation at which he could potentially start pushing should he feel the need, Anders gasped, hands flying to his belly as his face twisted in a grimace of pain.

He swore, something low and guttural that was obviously a curse, before he looked up to meet the eyes of everyone in the room.

“Looks like… looks like we’ll be bringing all three of these babies into the world today,” he said, still trying to smile through gritted teeth. Grizelda just sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure if that baby has the best or worst timing, healer,” she told him as he disappearing to dress in another of the gowns.

Behind the dressing curtain a splashing sound was heard, followed by another, louder curse.

Then, very quietly, Anders muttered, “Um. Shit.”

Fenris looked up, suddenly worried. “Anders? Are you alright?” Anders came back from around the screen, clutching his belly and panting harshly, sweat beading at his temples. “Yes, I’m fine. Water just broke, so it looks like my labor might be accelerated…”

“What does that mean?” Fenris asked as Grizelda and Brother Jerrell were helping him into the birthing chair. “Just that I’ll need to start pushing faster than you did.” He glanced around, and jerked his head at Brother Jerrell to the bed nearest the chair they’d settled Fenris in. “Can you move that for me so I can hold Fen’s hand while I lay down? I’d love to remain standing, but I really shouldn’t just now…”

Brother Jerrell nodded wordlessly and Fenris clutched Anders’ hand as soon as he was settled, and by then Grizelda proclaimed it was time to push, which Fenris did on the next contraction as Anders advised, using the pain to fuel the need to push.

“You’re doing great,” Anders huffed, turning his head and screaming into the pillow before relaxing just a little. “Yeah, little to no breaks between… definitely rapid labor. But don’t you worry about me. You focus on the twins, alright?” Fenris nodded, and started pushing again until –at last– a cry filled the room and Fenris leaned back in the chair, tears streaming down his face. They heard Grizelda chuckling, “Ah. A little boy. Nice set of lungs.”

She glanced at Anders. “You have enough strength to cut the cord?”

“Nnngh,” was all he managed, and the midwife sighed. “Perfect timing indeed,” was all she said as she cut the cord and handed the squalling babe off to Jerrell, who began to clean him and wrap him up in a blanket for Fenris to hold for a few moments while the second baby was moving into position.

“Anders, look,” he whispered excitedly, and Anders nodded. “Yeah,” he gasped. “I know. He’s beautiful.” And then there was a knock at the door that had Grizelda swearing up a storm.

“Jerrell, take the babe and go see who it is. If it’s Sora, tell that girl to get in here, but if it’s someone else, they can go in the other room and wait. We’re busy!” Brother Jerrell nodded, and Fenris whined a little when their son was lifted into the Brother’s arms and he went to answer the door. “It’s alright Fen,” Anders soothed even as he was wincing through a contraction. “He’s in good hands. Do you feel his twin dropping yet?”

Anders’ voice distracted Fenris long enough for him to focus and mumble, “I think so… getting that need to to push again...” Grizelda nodded. “Whenever you’re ready. I can feel the head.”

Soon the room was filled with a second cry as Sora was running into the room, and Grizelda barked, “Quickly now! Gotta get this girl cleaned up!” Fenris leaned back, eyes closed, covered in sweat. “A girl?” he breathed, and Grizelda nodded, “Yeah. We’ve still got the afterbirth to deal with, so don’t move just yet.” She kicked a bucket under the chair and glanced over at Anders.

“You feel the need to push yet?”

“Not yet,” he whispered, trembling and clutching his bedsheets tightly. “But soon.”

Fenris’ afterbirth process was mercifully short, and so when Brother Jerrell came back in he helped Grizelda have Fenris and Anders switch places, which was followed quickly by the birth of their second daughter, leaving Anders dazed and a little winded.

Brother Jerrell grunted when the two of them were properly settled and nursing the babies, two of the beds pressed close together so that they could have all their babies within reach.

“You two’ve got visitors,” he said gruffly. “Couple people from the Keep. Told ’em you might need a bit of rest, but the Commander –Amell?– she said they could wait.”

“Oh. Good. Yeah. Just a few minutes, alright? We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

The room cleared out and it was just the two of them at last. They’d been dressed up in some robes that were comfortable and made to let them nurse. Grizelda had explained that, since they weren’t women, they wouldn’t experience the bleeding that usually came after, but they would be aching and fatigued for a while. The lactation and swollen breasts would fade after the babies were weaned, and at most the only souvenir they might keep from the whole experience (aside from the babies themselves) was a little extra weight.

“I hope you keep that ass of yours,” Fenris muttered after he was sure Grizelda was gone.

Anders huffed. “I wonder if that ear thing will stay after this. Might be useful to help you keep calm when these three start getting into all sorts of trouble.”

Fenris huffed, but didn’t disagree.

“We should name them before your friends come in.”

“They’re your friends too, Fen. Or they can be. Oh, I wonder if Velanna’s with them! She could probably give you a run for your money in the brooding department…”  
  
“Anders. Names.”

“Oh, right.”

They looked down at their currently content bundles of joy and Anders glanced over at the babe in the center. “This is our son, yes?” He said quietly. Fenris nodded. “I… you name him. I know you want to.”

“Karl.”

“A good, strong name. But… we never figured out the girls, did we?”

Anders shrugged. “You liked Sage, didn’t you? Or was it Sadie?” Fenris shook his head. “No, it was Sage. I… liked it because of the flower, not the herb. The flowers were… pretty.” Anders smiled. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Then he looked down at the girl in his arms and sighed.

“I… I had been thinking of a name. I… thought of… Franziska.”

Fenris tilted his head.

“That name sounds… significant.” Anders nodded. “It was my mother’s. I think. It means freedom.” He bent down to kiss the top of their daughter’s head, and she fussed a bit before settling again.

“Then she shall be Franziska,” Fenris said with certainty. “Because it is our freedom that allowed us to be here. To be gifted with these children. It is a good name.” Anders caught his gaze and started to tear up, but Fenris kissed his tears away.

“Karl, Sage, and Franziska. Welcome to the world, little ones.”

And then Anders called to Brother Jerrell to bring everyone one in one at a time, and he and Fenris introduced their children to Rashia, Nathaniel, Velanna, and Sigrun for a few brief moments before he started to yawn and Grizelda shooed them out of the room, telling them to go find a place to sleep and come back later.

Brother Jerrell stayed with them while Grizelda went to fix up a few things in the kitchen, and he glanced over at Anders in particular with a knowing look in his eyes.

“So,” he said, “you blew up a Chantry for this?”

Anders was suddenly quite awake, though Fenris was already fast asleep. “Um. What?”

“You heard me. Anyway, I heard the whole thing from your commander. Sounds like something I would’ve done in my younger days, if I’d had the means.”

“R-Really? I mean, you’ve made it no secret that you didn’t care for them, but…”

Brother Jerrell shrugged. “Everyone deserves the right to be free. The right to marry whomever they wish. The right to have children.” He reached down and gently stroked the little tuft of hair on Franziska’s head. “And the right for those children to stay with their parents, should they turn out to be mages.” He looked up and met Anders’ gaze, and the usually cantankerous old man did something Anders wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man do before: smile.

“It might not be how you envisioned it, but I’m glad I got to live long enough to see a free mage have a child he got to keep.”

And that was exactly what they did.

It wasn’t an easy thing, being parents to three infants at once, but Fenris often reminded Anders of the promise he’d made all those years ago back in Kirkwall which Anders had made to him in return when they’d decided to make a life in this little village without a name. Fenris stayed by Anders’ side no matter what, and Anders was right there with him every step of the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Join me and my friends from the DA Weird Shit Chat who encouraged this madness.


End file.
